


Ten Years

by justsomebucky



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Mentions of Tony Stark, Mild Language, Sarcasm, Workplace, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-11-23 14:19:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11404188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsomebucky/pseuds/justsomebucky
Summary: AU. When a major account is on the line at work, reader is forced to revisit some old connections at her ten year high school reunion for a chance at success. Will she let the past consume her, or will she see the future in her grasp?





	1. Chapter 1

“What have you got there?”

You looked up from your desk, where you were currently sorting through the mail you’d grabbed this morning at your apartment building. Your coworker Wanda was leaning over the side of your cube, watching you with interest.

“I was running late, so I just threw my mail in my bag,” you explained. “Just trying to make sure I didn’t miss anything important. I’m sure it’s just bills and junk like that.”

She reached out and grabbed a long envelope that had some fancy writing on the front.

“Okay, nosy,” you said with a laugh. You reached out to grab it back, but you were too slow, watching as she opened it. “That’s a federal offense, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Wanda eyed the paper carefully. “Well, what do we have here? It’s an invite to your ten year high school reunion coming up.”

“I figured. I’ve been seeing things on Facebook about it, but I’m not going.”

“Why not?”

You quickly snagged the invite back from her while she looked at you. “Because I’m not. I just have no desire to go. Why does there always have to be some big thing with you? Some grand explanation?”

Wanda was a hopeless romantic, and she always made things out to be ten times more dramatic than a normal person should.

“Because avoiding your past without explanation means there’s something you’re hiding,” she guessed. “Are you hiding something?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” you muttered, turning back to your laptop. “Go away, I have work to do.”

“No, you don’t,” she laughed. “You finished your project up last week. I know for a fact that they haven’t assigned you a new one yet.”

“They will.” You bit your lip, hoping it was true. Wanda had a new account already, and so did your cube-mate Sam Wilson, but you had yet to get a new project. “You know how slow things are in the beginning of the year.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t. They barely let me take a breath before throwing another project at me. In fact, right now I have two accounts to manage and neither are all that great.”

It did kind of worry you that you hadn’t gotten a new project or account yet. Normally they were assigned one after the other, and you were up to your ears in trying to manage each one.

You worked for a firm that specialized in public relations and marketing. You’d been there for just under six months, and while you weren’t very high up the ladder yet, you had a basic idea of where the company wanted to go and what was expected of you.

The newest focus was ‘ _clean-up_ ,’ meaning anytime something bad happened, your firm would swoop in and try to salvage the image of a person, a company, or even a government agency.

The two projects that Wanda had now were both companies that had been charged with tax evasion. She was supposed to come up with a plan to improve their images domestically. It was pretty boring, but accounts meant work, which meant job security, so you weren’t about to judge them.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Sam returning from lunch. “Wanda,” he said with a nod. His eyes met yours. “What are you two birds on about now?”

“Oh, just how Y/N doesn’t have a new project yet,” Wanda replied airily.

You rolled your eyes. “She thinks I’m being made redundant already.”

Sam shook his head as he typed his password into his laptop. “Something big is coming up. The boss has been telling people to take on less little projects so that he can find the right team. Not even Barnes has something going on right now.”

Ah, James Buchanan Barnes, better known as _Bucky_.

He was the golden boy of the firm, the one coworkers and clients adored, and all of management worshipped. He was a go-getter, they said, someone to count on for that perfect pitch. He was a deal closer, a legend in his field, and he wasn’t that much older than you.

He had an ego to match, too. Everyone in the office said he was standoffish and smug.

The only time you’d ever encountered him in your entire time with the company so far, besides in passing or team meetings, was on the elevator the very first day you started. He’d asked if you were new, and you said yes, explaining that you were joining the account management team, _completely_ oblivious as to who he was. You made the mistake of asking him what floor the team worked on, as you’d only been to the HR department so far, and he’d told you the fifth floor. He was even nice enough to press the button for you on the panel in front of him.

At least, that’s what you thought at the time.

When you got out of the elevator, though, you quickly realized you’d been had, and that the fifth floor was _accounting_. As you turned around to get back on the elevator, you saw him smirk as he let the doors shut in your face.

You’d taken the stairs to the seventh floor, where all the _account managers_ were, grumbling under your breath about how you already loathed him and his new employee hazing. That’s how it had been since. You were competition, and he was having _none_ of it.

He treated _everyone_ like competition, and he was definitely married to his job. You didn’t even have the energy to try to keep up, so you weren’t sure what it was about you that made him particularly irritated.

“He must be getting inside information if he’s not taking on any projects,” you reasoned. “No way would he let himself go five minutes without praise or some new, made-up company award. Maybe we should all be worried.”

“You’re too hard on the guy. It’s not his fault he’s brilliant,” Wanda replied, shaking her head. “He earned it.”

Wanda was a straight up fan of Bucky’s. She adored him, hung on his every word. It wasn’t a crush, no, she was in a healthy, stable relationship. She just looked at him as many people used to look at Steve Jobs, or Elon Musk; as if he was a genius and trailblazer in his field and deserved admiration.

He was still human to you, though, and you weren’t afraid to argue with her. “Maybe he did earn his success, but he’s still an egomaniac.”

“I’m with Y/N on this one,” Sam added. “He may be good at his job, but he’s not a gift to earth. He walks through the halls like he’s too good to talk to anyone.”

“He could be antisocial or something. Maybe he’s shy, you don’t know!”

You eyed Wanda. “Don’t you think your hero worship is getting a little out of hand?”

“No, I just think he’s brilliant!” She frowned at you, crossing her arms. “If you can’t see it, then you’re obviously still pissed off about the elevator thing. Or!” Wanda’s eyes lit up. “Maybe you are so anti-Bucky because you secretly want him to grab you and have his way with you in the boardroom!”

You felt your face heat up, and you turned away from her.

_That was so not the case._

“You’re crazy.” The reply was weak and you knew it, but it was the best you could do for now. You frowned, turning back to her as Wanda’s grin grew bigger. “Don’t even take that as a confirmation. He’s a blip on the radar. I barely notice him.”

“All right, if you two don’t mind, I actually do have an account to manage, so go scurry off and have your girl talk someplace else.” Sam turned back around, and you shrugged at Wanda, your job predicament momentarily forgotten as the two of you went off to lunch.

* * *

You and Wanda found a quiet table near the window at the café across the street. Lunch was your favorite part of the day, frankly, because it gave you a chance to recharge your energy, something that was definitely needed in the business world. Dealing with people all day, especially people who wanted you to work miracles in an instant for a fraction of the true cost, was draining.

Food was also one of your favorite things. Wanda got a modest fruit salad, but you opted for a yummy cheese sandwich. Everyone was always swearing off bread, but since you didn’t have a gluten allergy, you flat-out refused.

“So tell me why you aren’t going to your reunion again?”

You shrugged at the other woman, unwrapping your food. “I just don’t have a lot of good memories, that’s all.”

She stared at you expectantly.

“Fine,” you sighed, setting your sandwich down. “I left home on Long Island to come work here in the city, and I haven’t really been back since. My parents moved to Florida, and my older sister moved to California, and I don’t have any ties left to my hometown.”

“No one?”

Should you mention anyone? You didn’t really have _ties_ so much as _situations_. Was it worth it? You knew Wanda wasn’t going to leave you alone until you gave a solid explanation for your anxiety.

“There was a guy that I was seeing all through high school,” you began softly, picking at the bread in front of you. “His name was Clint, and I thought for sure that we would go off to school together, maybe to Hofstra or something, and we would get married and be together forever.” You looked back up at her.

Her gaze softened in sympathy. “I’m guessing there was a messy breakup?”

You nodded, looking away again. “He cheated on me with my best friend.”

“No,” she gasped. “That’s so dramatic.”

“Yeah, well…I was heartbroken, humiliated, all the bad stuff that comes with it. I cut all ties with everybody.”

“And let me guess, they are still together?”

You nodded. “They live somewhere in or near the city now. She makes big bucks working over at Stark Industries, and he’s a personal bodyguard for the mayor or something.”

“Blech.”

“Exactly.” You picked up your sandwich and took a big bite. The two of you ate your lunch in silence for a moment.

“Are you okay with it, or are there still feelings lingering?”

You thought about it for a moment, before shaking your head. “They are good together. I think maybe they were the ones who should have been together the whole time. It was just bad timing and circumstance.”

Wanda smiled. “I think you should go to your reunion. Take a date, make it seem like you don’t have a care in the world. Maybe then you can let go of this crap and move on, and be able to think about home without cringing.”

You shook your head. “I can’t even find someone to go for drinks in a city of millions of people, what makes you think I’m going to find one to go home to Long Island and my reunion with me?”

“You never know,” Wanda said, shrugging. “The world works in mysterious ways.”

“Okay, no more Hallmark Channel movies for you.” You laughed and ducked when she threw a grape at your head.

* * *

Once lunch was over, you and Wanda made your way through the small lobby to the elevator banks.

Just before the doors closed to take you back to work, Bucky Barnes stepped on with the two of you, sparing each of you a glance. “Wanda. Y/N.” He turned his attention to the numbers above the door as the elevator began to move.

“Bucky,” Wanda sighed out, giving you a small smile, as if to say ‘I told you so.’ “How are your accounts going?”

“Fine.” He still wouldn’t look at either of you.

She fidgeted, but didn’t ask anything more. Thank goodness that sometimes even Wanda could tell when to keep her trap shut.

When the elevator reached the seventh floor, you moved to get out first. “Excuse me,” you told him as you brushed past. So maybe it was a little cold, a little snotty of you to do that, but you didn’t want him to send you off to the basement or something.

Wanda hurried to catch up with you as you marched back to the cube you shared with Sam. “What the hell was that about?”

“Oh come on, Wanda, I was polite. I just didn’t want a hazing repeat.” You flopped down at your desk, watching as Bucky strode by down the hallway to his own desk. “He didn’t even give a crap.”

“Not true,” she insisted. “He looked up in total surprise.”

“Maybe it was surprise that you weren’t going on about ‘ _Oh Bucky, please go ahead, you’re so brilliant and wonderful,’”_ you said, mocking her earlier tone. “Is that the surprise he showed?”

Wanda rolled her eyes. “Fine. I can see I’m not getting anywhere.” She leaned over and yanked Sam’s earbud out. “Try to convince her to go to her ten year high school reunion today. I have some actual accounts to work on.”

“What, and I don’t?” he called to her retreating form. Sam looked at you in question.

“Forget it,” you muttered. Your mood was already soured by the day’s events, and you still had a few hours to go. “Don’t listen to Wanda.”

“I wasn’t planning on it. Now leave me be. I’m right in the middle of the _Trouble Man_ soundtrack.” He turned back around and put his earbud back in.

In the moments of quiet that followed, you found yourself unable to focus on anything except that stupid invitation that was sitting there, blatantly mocking you. All you could see was Clint, with his arms around-

You shook your head, turning back to your laptop.

No way were you going.

_No way._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I usually like to have Nat be the schemer, but I’m liking Wanda as this bleeding heart hopeless romantic here. I hope you do, too!

It had been a few days since the reunion invitation arrived in the mail.

You had let it sit on your kitchen table, eyeing it on occasion, but for the most part neglecting its existence. 

Then you let it fall to the floor, and your cat, Mr. Fuzzypants, batted it around for fun. You were pretty sure it was still there under the table, but you didn’t want to retrieve it just yet. 

You knew you should reply with a definite _no_ to the RSVP. Unfortunately, Wanda had encouraged that tiny voice in your head, the one that was currently saying maybe it was time to revisit the past for closure. You couldn’t get that nagging thought to go away. 

She insisted that without closure, you’d carry the burden and hurt of Clint cheating on you into any new relationships. Maybe she was right; you’d been suspicious of dating and giving your heart away ever since. Maybe it was time for you to confront your issues, so that you could have a chance at a happier relationship in the future.

Then again, maybe you were just doomed to be alone, or a placeholder for someone to use until they found someone better. Ugh, dating was the worst.

At work, things were still slow. You had heard that if business didn’t pick up, they were going to downsize their account management staff. That typically meant that anyone without a major project was up for layoff consideration.  It was all rumors and gossip so far, but you’d never heard quite so many on the same subject before.

So, you needed a new client as soon as possible.

You’d spent the whole morning searching through news articles for any kind of scandal, or any negative press for business based in New York. Aside from the usual political scandals, you were coming up empty. It seemed that all of Wakanda, Inc.’s competitors were landing the bigger clients these days. 

You were engrossed in reading an article about the Drumpf Hotel chain’s illegal discrimination practices when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Sam leaned over to you, his face grim. “They just sent out a mass email to all of the account managers. There’s a special meeting in five minutes with the boss.”

You flinched at his words; was this the bad news everyone was expecting?

Sam must have noticed, because he shook his head at you. “Don’t get upset yet, Y/N. We don’t even know what they want. Could be nothing.”

“Yeah, well, just make sure you stay in touch with me after I’m let go,” you muttered, standing up. You gestured for him to lead the way, and the two of you walked down the hall to the main conference room. Most of the team had already gathered, so you made your way toward the back of the room.

You found two seats together to sit with Sam, while Wanda was across the table sitting next to Bucky. You scowled at her, knowing that her seating arrangement was no coincidence, but she just gave you a thumbs up and a smile.

“What’s she up to?” Sam asked quietly, nodding at Wanda.

“I’m not sure, but I can tell by the crazed look in her eyes that she’s probably plotting something _super fun_ for me.”

Everyone fell silent as your boss stepped in with an iPad in his hand. He stood at the front of the long desk and looked around the room, glancing from face to face with an unreadable expression. When his eyes fell on you, albeit briefly, you felt your face heat up.

Crap. This was serious.

He cleared his throat, then turned around to his assistant, motioning toward the screen on the wall. Someone dimmed the lights, and the presentation began.

A graphic depicting the first quarter financials appeared behind him.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” T’Challa’s voice boomed through the room with confidence and authority. “Our first quarter numbers were not where I hoped they would be. Wakanda, Inc. is in its first struggle for business since I inherited the company from my father five years ago. ”

A low murmur went around the room, but T’Challa held his hand up. “We are not in hot water yet,” he continued, “but we need to see a significant improvement in the next three quarters to meet our goals this year. However, I do not like to rely on _maybes_ and _what-ifs_. So, I have devised a plan, along with some members of the executive team.”

The screen behind him blinked, and Tony Stark’s face appeared. He was waving to a crowd of adoring fans in the video, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

Everyone knew Tony had his own team; what was your boss even getting at?

“I know what you are all thinking,” T’Challa said, turning back to everyone again. He set his iPad down before gesturing to the screen. “There is no way that a playboy billionaire like Tony Stark doesn’t already have his own public relations team.”

“Well, he does, doesn’t he?” your coworker Stanley asked.

T’Challa’s eyes drifted to Stanley’s face, and the man shrunk down in his seat a little for speaking out of turn. “Yes, he does. But his approval rating is not getting any higher, and he is asking for bids from firms like ours to help him improve his image. You see, Stark wants to push a new product line all over the world.”

He tucked his hands into his pockets and started walking around the table. “What product, you might be thinking? In my opinion, it is a product that any decent person can get behind.”

When he paused, his assistant changed the screen to a graphic of biomedical technology and engineering plans. It was some high-level stuff, which made sense since Stark was an actual genius. “These are just some of the proposals included in the bid. Tony Stark is developing new tech for hospitals and treatment centers. He wants to improve the lives of millions of people around the world, but he cannot do that if hospitals will not take him seriously. He cannot accomplish his goals if the health care industry is too concerned with cutting corners on pricing to buy into the new tech. He can’t do it if the public doesn’t _believe_ in him and his intentions.”

He hesitated behind your chair for a moment, before continuing around the table.

“I know I started this meeting talking about numbers, but with this project, our first quarter numbers would become irrelevant. The bid is for a very generous sum. Stark believes in his venture wholeheartedly, so much that he is willing to admit he needs help. I also believe this is a cause worth fighting for.” T’Challa made his way to the front again. He turned and placed both hands on the desk, his face serious. “Team, we are going to win that account.”

“Sir, there are firms far more experienced in the healthcare industry, and selling Stark’s image in general,” a woman named Billie spoke up. “How will we even have a shot?”

T’Challa lifted his hands and gestured around at everyone. “That is for you to determine. There are twenty people in this room right now. Talk to me, tell me your ideas.”

“We could highlight his philanthropy,” Bucky suggested, tapping his pen on the table in front of him. “Use footage of him going through hospitals, especially with children around. Show him in labs with full gear on, speaking with medical professionals.”

“Good,” T’Challa nodded, looking around. “Don’t let Barnes be the only one with a plan, people. Other ideas?”

“What if someone had an in at Stark Industries?” Wanda asked, her voice timid.

“What was that Wanda, I could not hear you?”

You stared at your friend in horror. No way would she sell you out. _No no no no._

But when her apologetic eyes sought yours, you knew she was about to do just that. “What if someone here knew someone who worked for Stark, and could get a meeting with him instead of just his team?”

“Do you have an ‘ _in_ ’ at Stark Industries, Wanda?”

You glared at her, silently willing her to keep her mouth shut. 

She shook her head at the boss. “No, but- ”

T’Challa pressed his lips together, and she fell silent. “Does anyone in this room have any personal connection to current Stark employees?”

“My girlfriend’s cousin works there,” your coworker Diego answered.

“In what department or unit?”

“She’s in HR, I think.”

T’Challa shook her head. “We can keep it in mind, but for this we need someone closer to executives or board members, if not Stark himself. Anyone else?”

“Y/N has a contact, and she’s seeing her next week!” Wanda smacked her hand over her mouth after she blurted out your secret.

Your jaw dropped in utter shock. She actually did it; what a traitor!

T’Challa turned his eyes to you. “Who is your connection, Y/N?”

Too late now. You felt your face heat up again as every person turned to look at you. “A girl I went to high school with, Sir. She’s an executive assistant, but I don’t even know who she reports to, and I don’t even know if she’d be willing to-“

“It does not matter,” he interrupted. “Where will you be seeing her next, and when?”

“My ten year reunion is next week,” you replied sullenly.

T’Challa nodded, standing up a little straighter. “Good. That’s a far more intimate setting than a boardroom. Go to the reunion, talk to your contact. Get us that lead, Y/N!” He glanced to his left. “Take Barnes with you, in case you need help. As for the rest of you, I want to hear your ideas by the end of the week. That is all.”

You met Bucky’s eyes, the same disbelief you were feeling reflected in his expression.  

Of course Wanda would find a way to force you to go to this stupid reunion. _Of-freaking-course._

You knew you couldn’t back out now, because this was such a big deal for the company. It had to be if he was sending his favorite employee with you to ensure success. Besides, it’s not like you had another project taking up all your time at the office.

You stood and made a beeline for the door, leaving Sam behind and ignoring Wanda as she called to you.

* * *

Bucky approached your desk at the end of the work day, his spine stiff and his attitude in full force. “So when exactly is this reunion?” he asked gruffly. “And where?”

You looked up, meeting his blue eyes with a blank expression. “It’s next Friday, on Long Island.” _And I don’t want to go,_ you added silently. 

He nodded. “Send me the information so that I have time to prepare a pitch.”

“I don’t think you’ll have time to pitch to this woman, she’s-”

He cut you off with a wave of his hand. “Look, just send me the details. I’ll worry about landing the account. You just worry about making sure she’s there and willing to talk.”

You felt your expression change into an icy glare. “Fine, Barnes. Just made sure you don’t embarrass me. If I’m going to be seen with you in front of people I actually like, I don’t want to be a laughingstock.” So the whole _people you actually like_ thing was a bit of a stretch, but he didn’t need to know that.

In fact, the less he knew about your prior history with some of your classmates, the better. It would make for a less embarrassing workday.

Judging by his amused expression, he saw right through your words. “I think I can handle myself. Frankly, I don’t understand why the boss wants this to happen at all. I could have handled this. I could have gotten a meeting with his advisors. This isn’t even remotely close to how Stark operates; he doesn’t have time for games.”

Now it was your turn to make a face. “How is it a _game_? We’re just going to a reunion, chatting with someone I used to know to get the inside scoop, and leaving?”

“No,” Bucky said, shaking his head. He leaned down a little, eyes intense. “If you think this is just about your relationship with this person, and maybe getting an idea of what they’re looking for or who they’ve already talked to, you’re wrong. This is the future of the company we’re talking about here. This is all of our livelihoods. I suggest you take it seriously, and think of a way to get more than just inside information.”

“I- ” Your mouth opened and closed twice before you found the right words. How the hell were you going to work with this guy? “Bucky, she’s not even a friend. I haven’t seen or spoken to her in years, and I don’t even know how closely she works with Stark, or if she even has any influence.”

“Your friend Wanda made it seem like she worked closely with Stark to the boss, so you better think of something.” Bucky gave you a pointed look. “Email me the details with some information about you, and I’ll reply with information about myself, and maybe we’ll actually seem like we aren’t there to use her. If you let me do most of the talking, we might have a chance.”

“Can’t freaking wait,” you muttered, spinning your chair around so you weren’t facing him anymore. He may have won that round, but you weren’t about to let him have the last word.

“Damn,” Sam muttered once Bucky stalked away from your desk. You hadn’t even realized he was listening. “This is either going to go really well, or you’re definitely going to get fired.”

“Thanks,” you said in a super fake cheerful voice, mentally cursing Wanda for the tenth time since the meeting. “So should I start packing my things now, or should I wait for the official axe from management?”

He didn’t say anything more, just watched in amusement as you let your head fall to the desk with a groan.


	3. Chapter 3

You still weren’t exactly speaking with Wanda.

Sam had spent a day or so trying to convince you to forgive her, but you weren’t quite ready yet. Not only had she forced your hand to go to an event that you absolutely didn’t want to go to, but she’d caused your job to be in a delicate balance over that event.

Plus, now you had to work with _Bucky_.

You’d been asking people around the office about him, about their opinions of his rumored ego and his personality. For the most part, people said he was quiet and kept to himself. The only ones who took issue with his ego were people who had been bested by him in the past over an account or a promotion.

One person had even told you that you ought to consider yourself lucky, because once Bucky set his sights on a goal, he never failed.

Another coworker said that you should take the time to learn as much as you could from him, because he never took on any junior managers or offered to show people the ropes. This was a rare chance, they said, to find out how he became the _office golden boy._

You hated to admit it, but you were both intrigued and irritated. Why was he so much more to all these other people, and so stuffy and snippy with you?

Anyways, your RSVP to the reunion had been mailed, and you’d emailed the details to Bucky like he had asked, including little facts about you.

That had taken forever; it was hard enough to describe yourself to your friends, let alone a coworker you barely knew. What was relevant and what wasn’t?

You still had to come up with a backstory about how you met, but maybe that wouldn’t matter in the end as long as your ex-best friend didn’t reveal anything to any higher-ups at Stark Industries.

After what turned out to be one of the longest and most excruciating weeks at work since you started, the weekend finally arrived, and you shut your laptop and desk light off with excitement. You were going to go shopping to find an outfit for the reunion, and retail therapy was exactly what you needed.

“Leaving without me?”

You looked up in confusion as Bucky Barnes rounded on your desk, blocking your way out. You tensed up, eyes glancing left and right to see if there was anyone else left to call out to, but everyone had bolted already. “I wasn’t aware that I was supposed to wait for you?”

He smirked, but not unkindly. “We need to iron out some last-minute details, don’t you think?”

“The reunion isn’t until _next_ weekend, Bucky.” What was he getting at?

“Ah, but preparation is key, Y/N. For instance, you probably don’t have anything to wear. You probably haven’t made arrangements with the travel agent yet. You probably haven’t got any proposals down, and you definitely don’t have anything saved to a flash drive that you could easily hand over to your contact. And lastly, but most importantly, you don’t know a thing about me.” He offered you a full-fledged smile, his perfect teeth on full display.

You gaped at him. He almost seemed like he was enjoying the idea. “We have time to figure stuff out.”

“No, we barely have any time at all.” he said, shaking his head. He motioned for you to follow him, turning on his heel and disappearing through the exit.

You grabbed your coat and followed after him, knowing that there was no one around to hear your dramatic sigh.

* * *

“You aren’t serious?”

The two of you stood on the sidewalk on Fifth Avenue, and you stared at all the familiar designer storefronts around you.

“I’m serious,” Bucky said with a shrug. “You have to look the part.”

You gave him a look. “It’s _Long Island_ , not Martha’s Vineyard.”

“First impressions are important, Y/N.” He started walking down the sidewalk, and you turned to follow.

“I can’t afford a good first impression like this. Besides, that’s a little sexist, don’t you think?”

His eyes widened. “No? You don’t have to get a dress. Just something that could work for both your reunion and a work event.”

You scoffed, looking away. Easy for him to say. He was handsome, and could wear a burlap sack and look good.

“If it makes you feel any better, the company can pay for it. I get a monthly stipend to woo clients. This is for work, so we can use it.”

“W-what?” You stopped again, blinking. “Bucky…”

He stopped too, eyes meeting yours. “I have never lost a pitch, Y/N, and I’m not about to lose one now, just because I have to work with someone else.”

You frowned at him. “You don’t have to be a dick about it. I didn’t want to do this, either. I didn’t even want to go to this stupid reunion.”

Bucky stared at you, hands splayed. “I didn’t mean it to sound that way, I just..just come on, please?”

With a big huff, you marched into the first dress shop you saw, Bucky trailing after you.

The woman inside, who obviously was trying very hard to earn her commission, found you three dress choices, none of which were anything more than business attire. You made a face, but took them all into a changing room to try on so that Bucky wouldn’t yell at you again.

None of them seemed right.

You came out with them tucked on your arm, and shook your head at him.

“Let’s try the next place,” he suggested. For someone with a reputation of impatience, he sure was being level-headed and patient with you and your shopping habits.

The next two shops had clothes that were more fun, but still nothing that seemed to work. Each time you’d step out of the changing room to show the salesperson and Bucky, he would say it didn’t seem quite right, and you agreed.

In the fourth shop, you found a plain black dress that fit you perfectly. It had three-quarter length lace sleeves that didn’t look too _1980’s Madonna_ , with a low-cut back, and you could pair it with some nice jewelry.  It was fun, but _work_ fun. Even Bucky approved (not that you cared, nope).

Plus, it was on sale, so you didn’t feel too bad when he handed over the company credit card to the salesperson.

Once you were back on the sidewalk, with people and traffic bustling around you, it seemed like a good time as any to bolt.

“All right, well, thanks for the dress. I’ll see you on Monday!”

Bucky, however, had other ideas.

You looked down as his hand gently clasped your forearm and he tugged you toward the curb, his hand raised to hail another taxi.

“Time to get dinner,” he said, almost sheepishly. “Get to know each other better.”

“I didn’t agree to dinner,” you protested, trying very hard not to sound too harsh.

At least he was trying. But, he was also trying your _patience_.

“Oh, grow up,” he laughed, opening the taxi door for you. “Get in. I promise I won’t bother you about this again until Monday.”

“All right,” you grumbled, scooting into the back seat. Bucky slid in beside you and shut the door.

Dinner was filled with surprisingly easy conversation. The atmosphere was too formal, and the menu too expensive, but he flashed the company credit card again.

You wondered how this was helping the first quarter numbers. Did he always spend the gross profit on himself?

Bucky made dinner interesting, though. He brought up talking points from your email about your life and yourself, while you slurped expensive spaghetti.

In return, you asked him about himself, while he poured glasses of expensive red wine.

“Where did you grow up?”

“Connecticut,” he supplied, taking a sip.

“What’s your family like?”

“I’m an only child. My parents are retired.”

Figures. You bit back a smirk. “Why did you start working at Wakanda Inc.?”

“Because they offered me the most money for a career right out of college,” he replied, taking a bite of his steak. “Why did you?”

You twirled some spaghetti around your fork thoughtfully, trying to figure out how to answer him. “Because I wanted to help people. I wanted to help them find their voices, and show their true selves to the public. For all those people or companies that have made incredible blunders but want to be better…for all the companies that want to prove themselves in world where no one has the patience for second chances…for all the times a person was reduced to the sum of their misfortunes or mistakes…I wanted to help.”

Bucky’s blue eyes were watching you intently now, but he remained silent.

You stared back at him, offering a small awkward smile. “Too much?”

“No,” he said softly, shaking his head once. His eyes stayed on yours, the intensity of his gaze becoming a little unnerving. “Those are good reasons. Great reasons, even. That’s what the industry _should_ be.”

“Well, Stark certainly falls under those terms,” you reasoned, looking back down at your food. “He should be given a chance to prove himself, to show the world that he means what he says, and he’s going to put his best effort into this pet project. Stark has made mistakes – big ones – but I genuinely believe him when he says he wants to revolutionize healthcare for everyone’s benefit.”

“I do, too.”

You looked back up at Bucky in surprise, and he actually offered you a sincere smile. He’d never given you reason to think he didn’t believe Stark, so why were you so relieved?

That was the moment that you decided you weren’t going to let your company down. You weren’t going to let bigger, more experienced firms boss you around and take what should be yours.

 _Yours and Bucky’s_ , you reminded yourself.

(That was also the moment that you decided you didn’t want to let Bucky Barnes down, either.)

* * *

After a cab dropped you off at your apartment, you hung your new dress up on your closet door and got settled for the night. A nice hot shower and some comfortable pajamas made you feel completely at ease with everything, even the prospect that you could lose your job if things didn’t turn around.

You grabbed your phone and sent a quick text to Wanda, telling her you were sorry for how you had treated her after the meeting.

She called you almost immediately. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I really am!”

“Let’s just move on and try to come up with a game plan,” you told her. “I have the business side down because of Bucky, but I need the social side to work out, too.”

“You mean, because you’ll have to see your ex-boyfriend with your ex-best friend?”

“They are still together,” you confirmed. “And I’m really over Clint, I promise, but the betrayal part still stings.”

“Well, I should hope so,” Wanda countered. “If you become immune to that from people you love, you’ll be nothing but a doormat your whole life.”

“I know,” you agreed, flopping down on your couch and reaching for your iPad. “But everyone who’ll be there knows what happened between the three of us, and I just…”

Your voice trailed off and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw another email from Bucky. In just a week, you’d be in your hometown, and-

“Earth to Y/N,” Wanda called out, her voice breaking you from your reverie.

You bit your lip. “Sorry, I just saw that Bucky sent me an email.”

“About what?”

“He came up with a plan for us to pretend to be a couple, and that we’d break up after the reunion so that if we got the account, it wouldn’t seem like a scheme.”

“But it’s totally a scheme.”

“I know,” you exclaimed. “Don’t remind me, I feel guilty as it is. But Bucky said that the bigger picture is what really matters here, and I’m inclined to agree with him.”

“Bucky said, huh?” You could hear the glee in her voice. “It seems like someone has a fondness for a certain golden boy.”

You rolled your eyes even though she couldn’t see you. Instead of agreeing, you tried to make it seem like he tortured you this evening, filling her in on the shopping and dinner adventure. “You’re the one that got me stuck with him. At least have a little sympathy.”

“Oh yes, I feel so bad for you. _Poor Y/N_ , had to get a free designer dress from Fifth Avenue, and free dinner from a five-star restaurant, and now has to be seen back home on the arm of one of Manhattan’s most eligible bachelors.”

You blinked at his name on the screen. “Come to think of it, why _is_ he one of Manhattan’s most eligible bachelors?”

“According to the last woman who tried to date him, and _Page Six_ of course, Bucky was all about work. He had no work-life balance to speak of, and would consistently ditch his dates to make more money.”

“I could see that.” You closed the email app and set the iPad down on the coffee table. “Anyways, Wanda, I need to see you Monday for lunch. We’ve got to plan my confrontation with Natasha and Clint.”

“You got it. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night.”

With a great big sigh, you ended the call, stood, and headed to bed. You were finally starting to feel nervous about seeing people from back home again, but you weren’t about to let it ruin your sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

You got so little sleep on Sunday night that you ended up calling off on Monday morning.

There was no way _, no chance_ that you could have sat there all day with Sam and Wanda grilling you about your Friday night with Bucky. There wasn’t enough coffee in the entire world that would get you through that interrogation. You sent a quick text to Wanda to push back your lunch date.

Instead, you spent your day being totally lazy, perusing Facebook and the reunion page while the rain tapped against your bedroom window.

Tuesday went by quickly, with your coworkers so immersed in their own drama that they barely noticed you, thank goodness.

When Wednesday rolled around, you and Wanda spent your entire lunch hour going over potential conversation starters for when you had to be nice to Natasha and Clint. The plan was to emphasize that you’d moved on, even if you still felt a little hurt (which you were _never_ to admit to them now or ever, per her instructions). Wanda had reasoned that it was okay to be hurt, but carrying it with you wasn’t helping you in any way, and you knew she was right.

On Thursday, you intended on spending lunch alone, but your quest for solitude was broken by a nervous Bucky.

Yes, James Buchanan Barnes, the unstoppable hero of Wakanda, Inc., was _nervous_ about a pitch. If he was nervous, what right did you have to be so calm about it?

So, Bucky sat with you at your usual table in the café across the street from the office, but he wasn’t eating. His chicken salad sat untouched in front of him while he furiously typed on his iPad, adding some last minute touches to his spiel that he was going to use on Natasha.

You were busy looking at Facebook again, frowning at new pictures that Natasha had posted this morning. She and Clint were posing in front of your old high school, holding each other happily.

“Why are you glaring so hard at your phone?”

Your eyes flickered up to meet Bucky’s. “It’s nothing.”

He made a face, showing he didn’t buy it. “Try again.”

“It’s just…they keep posting pictures of themselves, and I keep torturing myself by looking at them.” You glanced back down at the picture.

Realization washed over Bucky’s features. “Ah…you mean the ex-friend and ex-boyfriend?”

You nodded solemnly, turning your screen so he could see. “I know I shouldn’t even look, but…”

Bucky rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he peered at the happy couple. “You know, we probably ought to have a couple of photos too, just in case. Most couples do, don’t you think? If we’re going to seem convincing, we need to step it up a little.”

Now it was _your_ turn to make a face. “Yeah, but, we _aren’t_ a couple, and my family and friends will see, and-“

“Isn’t that the point?” he interjected, brows raised. “At least for now? I mean, my friends will see it too, but that’s part of what makes it seem real and convincing. Think of us as part of the pitch. We have to sell ourselves to the client, in this case Natasha.”

He did have a point. If someone were to search for either of you on Facebook, they would see that you were single, with zero pictures of each other anywhere. How believable would that possible be?

Natasha wasn’t stupid. She would be able to see right through something that seemed insincere.

“Well, we’re out and about,” you said, shrugging. “We can take some selfies and pictures.”

You stood up and moved around the table until you were sitting beside Bucky. “Café selfie!” You waited for him to smile before taking the picture. “Selfies in one location aren’t going to be convincing enough.”

“We can make this an official work lunch,” Bucky suggested. “Let’s go walk around the city and take some more.”

“Okay.” You didn’t see the harm in it; it was only temporary, and the breakup would be public, too.

_It’s just for work._

* * *

“There’s the fountain over there,” you pointed. The Lincoln Center fountain outside of the Met was one of your favorite places to visit in the city. It was beautiful, and the setting was elegant, and you didn’t really know why, but you never got tired of seeing it. “We can take one there.”

You didn’t even stop to wait for Bucky to catch up as you made your way over to the fountain with a small smile on your face. There were school kids running around, and a young couple sharing a snack, and a large group of tourists taking pictures.

But your eyes never left the water; it sparkled in the sunlight, and gave the whole place a magical feel.

“I never saw anyone so fond of a fountain before,” Bucky said, finally appearing beside you.

You peeled your eyes away to grin at him. “I don’t even understand it. I just…I love it here. This city is amazing.”

He gave you a smile of his own, and for the first time in a while, Bucky looked almost like he _did_ understand.

When he reached for your hand, you felt your face heat up, but you let him pull you along until you were on the other side, facing the Met. There were less people on this side because everyone wanted the tourist shots. “A real New Yorker doesn’t care,” he explained with a chuckle.

He instructed you to have a seat along the edge of the fountain, while he went over to the younger couple and asked them to take a picture.

The guy agreed, standing up and following Bucky over to you. Bucky sat down beside you and threw an arm around you.

“Smile!” the kid said, aiming Bucky’s phone at you.

“One more,” Bucky called.

“Sure!”

To your surprise, right before the next picture was taken, Bucky kissed your temple.

Now you were _really_ mortified, though when you looked at the aftermath, the pictures looked very convincing. You were actually beaming in that second picture.

You looked like a real couple.

He cleared his throat and tucked his phone back in his pocket, seemingly unaffected. What you would give to seem that cool and collected all the time.  “Come on. We can see what’s going on in the theatre district.”

Wordlessly, you stood and followed him, only flinching a little bit when you felt his hand at the small of your back. You’d have to work on that for Saturday, just in case he did that more often.

After a few more stops at iconic locations, you and Bucky begrudgingly headed back to work in a taxi. He held the door open for you, and then let you on the elevator first.

It was like he was a whole different person outside of the office.

You bit your lip, eyeing him carefully while he stared at the flashing numbers above the elevator door. When he realized you were staring, he turned to meet your gaze.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just…” You shook your head, not exactly sure how to phrase what you wanted to tell him. 

Bucky’s eyebrow lifted in question.

“I just… when I first started, I heard that you were married to your job, that you didn’t really know how to have fun.”

He nodded twice, then turned back to the door. “I get that a lot.”

Your heart sank at the tone of his voice. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I promise.”

“It’s fine, really.” His expression didn’t give away what he was feeling.

You turned your face forward, too, trying not to make things worse. Just before the number changed to seven, you looked back over at him. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s true. I had fun today.”

Bucky’s blue eyes met yours in surprise, but before he could reply, the elevator doors opened, and you both saw T’Challa standing in the hallway with his arms crossed in front him as if he’d been waiting.

He didn’t look happy.

* * *

Bucky was pulled away into an emergency planning meeting, but he promised to upload the pictures to Facebook as soon as he could.

After about an hour, you received a friendship request from him on your app, followed by a relationship status update and a tag for every single pic you’d taken today.

Almost immediately, you got a bunch of likes and messages.

_Whoa, you look great! Hope you’re safe and happy!_ (That one was from your mother).

_He’s a hottie, where’d you find him?_ (Your sister couldn’t help but chime in, too).

Your eyes narrowed when you saw that Wanda simply put a smiley face. She was probably _loving_ this right now.

The next notification that popped up was one from Natasha.

You froze when you saw the little message with her name beside it.

She hadn’t interacted with you for so long that you couldn’t believe she’d be reacting now. Then again, with the reunion coming up, maybe she was just happy to see you’d finally moved on. Maybe she thought the two of you could reconnect.

_It’s all for work_. You didn’t move on, though you were working on it. 

But Natasha didn’t need to know that.

You decided to distract yourself by looking at Bucky’s Facebook page. He had quite a lot of friends, but very little content. There were a couple of pictures of him with an older couple, probably his parents. There were pictures of him out at bars or work events.

Then there were a couple of older pictures, not on his page but ones he was tagged in, of him and a beautiful woman. His arm was around her, and he looked happy.

For some reason, your heart sank when you saw those. You couldn’t figure out her name, but you could see from the date they’d been uploaded that they were a couple years old. You wondered what happened. Did he love her? Was it serious? Who ended it?

You shook your head. _Did it matter?_

Throughout the rest of the afternoon until quitting time, you amused yourself by completely avoiding any work and merely watching the notifications on your new pictures on Facebook. Bucky’s friends were commenting now, saying congrats and that it was about time he found someone. This one guy who seemed to be Bucky’s best friend, Steve, commented that he was really happy for him.

You couldn’t stop the cheesy grin on your face when you saw Bucky’s reply.

_Thanks, man. I’m really happy, too._

“What are you over there grinning about?”

You snapped your attention to Sam, who’d finally returned from whatever meeting he was in all day. You turned your phone slightly so that he couldn’t see the screen. “Nothing.”

“Uh huh.” He gave you a look, then grabbed his jacket. “So you’re leaving early tomorrow, then?”

You nodded your head. “The boss wants us to leave early, so we’re driving out tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oooh, the _boss_ wants you to do something. Look at you! Big Shot and Golden Boy.” Sam stood in front of you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’d say good luck, but seeing as golden boy has all the luck you need, I’m just gonna say this, instead: I see that moon-eyed look on your face. It ain’t real, Y/N. Don’t convince yourself it is.”

“I- of _course_ not,” you sputtered, frowning up at him. “I _know_ that, Sam. It’s just for work. I am trying to get ahead here, and I’ve actually been learning a lot from him. That’s literally all it is.”

With one more look showing he was completely unconvinced, Sam turned and walked away from you to the exit. “Whatever you say, Y/N. Just don’t come cryin’ to me on Monday, you got it?”

You didn’t reply. Were you really that bad already? Hell, you could have been watching cat videos for all he knew. Sam was just assuming. 

But you weren’t, and _you_ knew it. This was dangerous grounds for someone like you, someone with a big heart and the ability to fall too hard, too fast.

What Sam didn’t know was how badly you’d been hurt before. Surely you weren’t about to let someone in that easily again? That was absurd. Bucky had told you to your face that this was all part of the pitch. 

You chewed your lip while you tried to convince yourself that you were stronger than that.

Just to take some initiative, you fired off a text to Bucky, telling him you’d see him tomorrow and to have a goodnight.

Bucky was having none of that, though. He texted back almost immediately, protesting your plans, and not long after, he showed up at your desk. “Leaving without me?”

“I figured we had the plans down already,” you replied lamely, looking up at him with a shrug. “Aren’t you sick of me yet?”

The corner of his mouth lifted ever-so-slightly. “Nah. Besides, we have to talk about Natasha, don’t you think?”

Your eyes narrowed almost immediately. This was the part you’d been dreading. “What about her?”

Bucky held his hands up. “Whoa, I just meant that it would help me do the pitch if I knew a little more about her. What is she like, what’s her personality…you know…”

You looked down. “Fine. We can go to my apartment, though, because I’m far too lazy to trek across town from yours, and I have to feed my cat.”

* * *

When you got home, you opened the door and held it so Bucky could step inside. It was still light out, but the sun was going down, so you walked over to turn on the lamp beside the couch, before moving to shut your blinds. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

Bucky stood there in the middle of the living room, hands in his pockets, and looked around. “It’s nice.”

You scoffed, reaching for Mr. Fuzzypants when he came running to you. “It’s not _Uptown_ nice, but it’s home.”

“Uptown isn’t all that exciting,” he said softly, moving over to you. He reached out to pet Mr. Fuzzypants, who started purring almost immediately.

“He likes you,” you told him, a small smirk on your face as you shoved the cat into his arms. You took your shoes off and made your way into the kitchen. “Do you want takeout? Maybe some pizza?”

“That’s fine,” he agreed.

After you ordered, you changed into a t-shirt and pajama pants, no longer caring how you appeared in front of Bucky. If it was all for work, you’d have to start acting like it. You flopped down on the couch beside him. 

“So,” you began. “Natasha.”

“Natasha.” Bucky looked at you expectantly. “Our target.”

“What do you want to know?”

He had his iPad at the ready to take notes. “Personality traits.”

“She’s…nice.”

Bucky looked at you with an _are-you-serious_ kind of stare. “You’re gonna have to give me more than that, Y/N.”

“I mean, to be fair, Bucky, I haven’t spoken to the woman in ten years. She could be a housewife with a neighborhood watch god complex by now for all I know.”

That made him chuckle. “Tell me what you do know, then.”

You let out a sigh, adjusting to get more comfortable as your cat made his way to the couch to sit between you and Bucky. “She was popular, gorgeous, sophisticated, basically everything I’m not. You know the drill; hot cheerleader befriends someone much nerdier and uglier to keep up appearances, that sort of thing.”

He rolled his eyes. “All I’m hearing is your astonishing inferiority complex. What else?”

You suddenly found your couch cushion to be very interesting. “She used to say she was going to move to the city one day, and she’d be a big-time executive, and marry someone rich and successful…” You looked up at him, eyes narrowing. “She actually used to be a lot like you, only she never got quite that far.” It kind of irritated you, now that you noticed the similarities. 

He didn’t say a word, didn’t even look up but instead kept typing, so you continued.

“By the time senior year rolled around, I was busy trying to plan my future with my boyfriend, and as it turned out, so was she.” It was kind of mortifying to even admit it to Bucky, but he needed to know the truth, especially if he was going to meet them soon. 

Bucky stopped typing to look up at you in surprise. “How did you find out?”

“It was right before finals week. I turned Clint down for dates a couple of times so that I could study.” You shrugged your shoulders again. “Natasha didn’t turn him down. After one evening spent studying advanced calculus, I went over to Clint’s house to surprise him. I found her wrapped around him instead.”

“Damn,” he muttered, running a hand over his face. “That’s terrible.”

“Yeah, I don’t condone anything they did…but at least they are still together now. At least it meant something in the end.” 

“We might be able to use whatever personal guilt she might still be feeling to our advantage here. I mean, not to drag it out anymore than someone should, but it might help us get our inside info, or even a meeting with a higher-up.”

“Yeah.” You looked away, biting your lip. The thought of your sad, sorry past helping your future didn’t seem all that bad until you remembered that you had to, ya know, confront it. 

“I get now why you really didn’t want to go to this reunion.” His eyes were full of sympathy, and you hated it. You didn’t want to be pitied.

Luckily, the doorbell rang, and the pizza provided a great distraction.

In between bites, you looked back over at Bucky. “You know, this is a lot of effort for one event. I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Me too,” Bucky replied, running a hand over his face.

_Very reassuring,_ you thought glumly. All hope of getting through this weekend unscathed was slowly disappearing.

“Let’s do another one of those selfies,” he suggested. “You can post this one, since we’re at your apartment.”

“Okay.”

Bucky grabbed your phone, since his arm was longer, and the two of you took another selfie together, which you posted right away. “What should I write for this one?”

“Call it _date night._ ”

The corner of your mouth quirked up. You knew he was trying to make you feel better about the whole Clint thing. “Done.” You uploaded and tagged the picture, smirking as it instantly got attention.

Bucky left about an hour later, bidding you and Mr. Fuzzypants goodnight. “See you tomorrow. Don’t worry, it’s almost over. We’ll have the account in no time.” He flashed a charming smile, then turned and walked down the hallway. 

You shut the door behind him, feeling like someone had just doused you in cold water. Man, Bucky was convincing. He was a little _too_ convincing. No wonder he always won the accounts he was after. 

You repeated your new mantra in your head as you made your way to your bedroom:

_It’s just for work._


	5. Chapter 5

When Friday finally arrived, you woke up with a terrible feeling.

It was like one of those moments you’d see in a Star Wars movie, where one of the main characters says, ‘ _I have a bad feeling about this_.’ That was you, as soon as your eyes had opened.

The reunion wasn’t until Saturday night, but your boss T’Challa had instructed you and Bucky to leave a day early and stay two nights in a hotel near your hometown. He figured that would give you enough time in case you needed the extra hours to work out more details of the plan, or to meet with someone the day after.

You highly doubted that you’d be meeting Tony Stark on a Sunday, or at all, really, but you didn’t tell the boss that. Never tell the boss that sort of thing, _ever_.

Since you were familiar with the area and Bucky wasn’t, you offered to drive on the way there, and he would be the one to drive back to the city. The plan was to leave work after so you threw your bag in the backseat and gently laid your dress over top of it, leaving enough room for Bucky’s things.

The first thing you noticed when he stepped out of the lobby was how casual he looked. He was wearing a pair of dark pants, and a light blue button-down shirt that had the top few buttons undone with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

You bit your lip, internally screeching at how handsome he looked. _It’s just for work_ , you reminded yourself, peeling your gaze away from him as he got in the passenger seat and shut the door. You’d been spending way too much time with him, both on the phone, on Facebook, and in person. It was starting to mess with your head.

“Hey,” he said, giving you a small smile. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you replied, tearing your gaze away as you adjusted the side mirrors so that you could see properly. “You can listen to whatever you want, I don’t have a preference.”

Bucky reached for the radio. “This has satellite radio, so we can listen to eighties music if that’s okay?”

“That’s fine.” You carefully pulled away from the curb and into traffic, following the route home that you knew by heart.

It was going to be a long drive, not because of distance, but because of your own thoughts and anxiety.

At least, you _assumed_ the butterflies in your stomach were from anxiety.

* * *

The hotel that the company’s travel agent had booked for you was on the smaller side, but there wasn’t really all that much to offer near your hometown anyways. Bucky’s room was just down the hall from yours. The plan was to unpack, change, and meet up for dinner.

The reunion itself was being held tomorrow at in the gymnasium of your old high school. Being back at your school was something you were kind of looking forward to, but still kind of dreading. That setting made it more of a true reunion to you, but it also brought back lots of memories you weren’t sure you were ready to confront.

You had just changed for dinner when a knock sounded on your hotel door.

Bucky stood in the hall, wearing jeans and a red Henley shirt that fit him _just right_. You nearly keeled over at the sight of him looking even more casual than before, but now with an outline of muscles showing. When did those get there?

“I wasn’t sure if you even owned jeans,” you quipped, stepping out into the hall with him and slinging your bag over your shoulder. You tried not to stare, so you kept your eyes off of him altogether.

“Funny,” he retorted. You hear the amusement in his voice.

“So, I thought we could just take a scenic route to a diner I used to go to when I was in high school.”

“Sounds good.”

Bucky walked beside you as you pointed out the library, the house everyone used to say was haunted but was really just abandoned, and the entrance to the park.

“My first car broke down on that street, right in the middle of rush hour,” you told him, pointing. “Clint had to push it to the side of the road because people were screaming at me for blocking the road. It’s not like someone plans on breaking down in the middle of the road, but you know New Yorkers.”

He looked over at the side street, but didn’t say anything.

You bit your lip, wondering what he was thinking. You’d gotten to know him better over the last couple of weeks, but you still couldn’t read his silence very well. Was he bored? Was he comparing it to his hometown?

Was he wishing he was somewhere else right now?

The two of you turned down another side street, then walked a couple blocks before you came upon the place you were looking for: your old house.

It was a modest, two-story home, on the corner of a street called Nolan Court.

You gestured toward the home. “This is where I grew up.” Your eyes slid to Bucky’s face, trying to gauge a reaction.

Bucky gazed at the home in front of you, the streetlight making his eyes sparkle a little. “It’s nice,” he said softly, a small smile playing on his mouth. “I could definitely see you living here.”

_Wait, what?_

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s a nice home in a quiet neighborhood, not far from the city you love.” He looked at you, his smile widening. “A little quiet rebellion always calling to you, though you knew you had it good here.”

“I did,” you agreed, looking back to the home. It used to be blue, and now it had a false brick exterior, but he didn’t need to know that. That wasn’t something you told a coworker-slash-pretend-boyfriend.

Wasn’t he more than a stranger now, though? He was getting to know little pieces of you, day by day, and putting together a puzzle of your life in his head. And what’s more, he seemed to be enjoying himself.

If someone had told you two weeks ago that you’d be standing on the sidewalk outside of your childhood home with Bucky Barnes, your competition at work, you’d have laughed in their faces.

Now, you couldn’t imagine being here with anyone else.

Little warning alarms started going off in your brain. You weren’t supposed to think that way; you were supposed to stick to your mantra. Bucky would never settle for you, and besides, he wasn’t the type to _actually_ date the competition. His work meant too much to him, as he’d proven time and time again.

“Let’s get going,” you said quietly, feeling a little more defeated than a few minutes ago. “I’m hungry.”

Bucky snapped out of whatever thoughts he’d been lost in and nodded. If he noticed the change in your demeanor, he didn’t mention it. “Lead the way.”

* * *

“So all we’re doing is finding out about me. I want to know more about you.”

Bucky shook his head, hands clasped together in front of his mouth. “I don’t know what more to tell you. I’m pretty boring.”

“You don’t seem boring to me.”

He glanced to the counter of the diner. “I don’t have anything nearly as interesting as your little Long Island getaway here.”

The diner you were both in was a throwback to the fifties.  It had a bright red counter, with white bar stool seating and a checkered tile floor. All the waiters and waitresses dressed up like they could have been in a James Dean movie. It was so popular and special that they featured it on the Food Network several times. So many of your favorite memories with your friends had happened in this very diner.

But you weren’t going to get into that. That wasn’t something you should tell a coworker.

“Oh yeah, we’re the only town in America to have a diner,” you joked, making a face. “Seriously though. What were you like growing up? Did you have a nice childhood?”

“I had an okay childhood,” he relented, his blue eyes gazing back at you.

You felt a little shiver roll down your spine.

“My best friend, Steve, and I used to get into some trouble here and there, but nothing major.”

“Does Steve still live in Connecticut?”

“He does. He’s got a wife and a kid on the way.”

You nodded. It was interesting how different they seemed just by what he was describing, but you and Natasha hadn’t been very similar from the start, either.

Bucky reached for his glass of water, taking a sip before continuing. “I was kind of a nerd growing up. Steve was sort of like your friend, Natasha. He was popular, tall and fit, and all the girls went bananas for him. I was shy and quiet. I didn’t want to settle down right away, and I couldn’t find anything of interest work-wise, so I left for the city. I threw myself into my job, and here I am.”

“Do you ever go back?”

“Once in a while to see my parents or Steve. That’s all, though.”

You nodded. “No one special?”

He let out a humorless laugh. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m kind of a workaholic. I’ve had more dates cancel on me because of my being held up at work than dates that actually happened.”

Ah, yes, the rumors were true then. He _was_ married to his job.

You secretly relished the fact that he was single, though. After all, he’d found plenty of time for you lately, even if it was work related. Maybe if this whole account thing worked out, you’d be assigned to work with Bucky more often. Surely, you’d at least have to help oversee Mr. Stark’s account.

Then he’d find even more time for you, for work of course.

The waitress arrived just then, bringing you each a plate of breakfast foods. Bucky had been about to order a burger and fries, but you had pretended to be offended. You insisted that breakfast for dinner, especially at _this_ diner, was a must.

“Wait!” Bucky held up his hand. “Food selfies are the most infuriating, aren’t they? We can brag about our breakfast, _and_ our relationship.” He dug into his pocket and retrieved his phone, getting the camera settings ready for the waitress. He gave her one of his winning smiles. “Would you mind taking a picture of us?”

“Sure, honey,” the waitress said, smiling at you both. “You make a cute couple.”

The two of you leaned over your plates and smiled at the camera, and Bucky posted it to Facebook right away. “Maybe we should have started an Instagram account, too?” he mused. 

“I think that Facebook is fine.” You didn’t want this charade to completely haunt you once it was over and you were alone with just Mr. Fuzzypants to keep you company. Why torture yourself, right? 

“So since I ordered breakfast for dinner, am I officially in the club here?” Bucky looked up from his waffles, the corner of his mouth lifting enough to bring out those handsome laugh lines around his eyes.

You felt those damn butterflies acting up again. “Well, it’s a start, but you have to make it through the reunion first. You have to really witness what hell was like up close.”

Bucky laughed, taking a bite of waffle. He nearly groaned as he chewed that first forkful.

“It’s heavenly, right?”

His smiled widened. “You’re a genius.”

You grinned to yourself as you started into your own waffles. It was still hard to believe you were having this much fun with a man who once closed the elevator doors in your face.

* * *

The walk back to the hotel was one that you were dreading, so you kept the pace as slow as possible. The sooner you went to sleep, the sooner you had to be awake again for tomorrow, and the actual reunion.

You weren’t ready. You knew it deep down that you weren’t ready to face Clint and Natasha, and you especially weren’t ready to try to use your old relationship with her for business purposes. It felt wrong, it felt insincere, and most of all, you didn’t want to exploit her. But you also didn’t want to lose your job. You didn’t want to ruin the company’s chances with Mr. Stark.

And you certainly didn’t want to disappoint the man beside you.

“So, tomorrow,” Bucky began, as if reading your mind. “Don’t worry about it so much. Even if we don’t get the in with your friend, ex-friend, whatever she is…even if we don’t get any progress there, I’m not going to give up.”

You offered him a small forced smile. “I just have a bad feeling that if I don’t pull through with this connection, that I’ll be looking for a new job soon. The rumors-”

“The rumors are crap,” Bucky interrupted, stopping to look at you, his face serious. “T’Challa isn’t that kind of man. He sees hard work, too, not just the end result. He knows how hard our team works, and he knows which people aren’t pulling their weight. He’s a fair boss, and an observant one.”

“What, do you have some kind of insider info about this or something?”

“I do,” he admitted. “T’Challa asked me to become the head of our department yesterday. That’s why he was so anxious for us to get back to the office…that’s why he was waiting for me. They want to do some restructuring. I told him I’d think about it.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you just accept the position?”

“It’s a lot of change for me.” Bucky shrugged, looking thoughtful. “I think I like the chase better, the feeling you get when you can land a new client, another big account. I don’t think I’m meant to be a manager.”

The two of you started walking again. “I think you’d be a great manager,” you piped up. “Not that I’m trying to get in good before you become my boss, or anything.”

Bucky chuckled softly. “Anyways, Y/N, don’t worry about it. Either way, everyone sees how hard you work.”

The two of you made your way into the hotel lobby in silence, shuffling quietly to your separate rooms.

Before he went inside his door, Bucky looked up at you. “I wouldn’t let them get rid of you.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, but before you could reply, he bid you goodnight and disappeared. You opened your own door, a thousand thoughts bombarding you at once. Now you weren’t so sure of your mantra.

It was hours before you were able to finally fall asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Jean-Ralphio voice* We’re at the reuuuUUuuuniooooooooon!

You stared at your reflection in the mirror.

For most of the day, before your current staring session, you and Bucky sat in his hotel room going over the plan and the potential pitch. You went back and forth with questions and answers, coming up with what-if scenarios, and trying to think of every possible direction things could go. You were as prepared as you were going to be, at least for the work portion.

Bucky was _definitely_ ready. In fact, you’d never seen someone more prepared for _anything_ than he was for this reunion. He was confident, though slightly nervous by his own admission. This was going to be the biggest pitch of his career so far. You could see in his eyes that he was secretly exhilarated at the chance to once again be the company golden boy.

It was more than that, though. He loved the chase, loved winning people over. Bucky had mentioned it at the diner with eyes alight. He loved landing a new client, a new account, and reaping the benefits. After that came a new chase, a new client, a new goal in sight. He never settled for long on any one thing.

This seemed to include people. Friends and colleagues were replaceable and interchangeable to him. That part disappointed you the most. 

You had finally admitted it to yourself this evening while you were getting dressed: you had a big giant whopper of a crush on Bucky Barnes. It was completely unfortunate and poorly-timed. It was also fruitless.

You knew that no matter how well this went, he’d never settle for you. He’d basically said so himself; he wanted the best, and wasn’t going to waste time on anything less.

Besides, you couldn’t really get involved with someone at work, especially someone they were considering to become your next manager.

You let out a huge sigh, running your fingers over your hair one last time. An alert sounded from your phone, and as you reached for it, you saw Wanda was trying to FaceTime with you.

Her cheerful face filled your screen the second you answered. “Hi! You look amazing,” she exclaimed. “Are you nervous?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Of course I’m nervous, Wanda, how could I not be? It’s been ten freakin’ years since I last saw everyone.”

She made a face. “Don’t let the past dictate your future. People change. You’ve changed, haven’t you? Tonight, you’re going to go into that gym, head held high, with a hottie on your arm, and you are going to _own_ that reunion. You hear me? You are going to forget about work for a minute and enjoy yourself, too. Don’t forget to _enjoy_ it.”

“I don’t think I’ll have time to enjoy myself.” You shook your head at her. “Bucky is dead-set on getting this pitch over with.”

“Bucky has no clue how to interact with someone when he’s not in it for work, that’s why. You’ll just have to help him out a little, Y/N.”

“Help him out?”

“Yeah.” She gave a cheeky smile. “You know, there’s going to be alcohol, and dancing. _You know_.”

“Oh, no no no, I can’t,” you sputtered. “Can you really imagine Bucky _dancing_? Come on, Wanda, I know you’re a hopeless romantic, but I didn’t think you were _that_ crazy!”

“You just have to be brave and open-minded, that’s all.”

“Whatever, it’s not gonna happen. I don’t need to be open-minded or brave. This is just for work.” You didn’t mention that you were so nervous you were sweating.

A dreamy look appeared on her face. “I can picture it, though. You walk in on Bucky’s arm. All the people who used to think you were a nerd see you in a new light. You’re gorgeous, successful, confident, and most importantly, you showed up, despite what happened to you during your time there. If that isn’t brave, I don’t know what is.”

For the first time since this whole ordeal started, you felt grateful for Wanda’s meddling. If she hadn’t tossed you into this mess head-first with Bucky, you would never have come to the reunion. You’d be sitting at home right now, imaging how the reunion was going, thinking about Clint and Natasha slow dancing and everyone complimenting them. No one would remember you. No one would know how much you’ve changed, how much you don’t need Natasha or Clint to be happy in life.

There would be no closure for you, no chance at letting it all go, if it wasn’t for Wanda and her big mouth. You also got a night out with Bucky as your date, even if it was all pretend. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, trying not to get emotional in front of her. “Thank you for forcing me to have the courage to do this.”

Wanda grinned, looking a bit misty-eyed herself. “You had the courage this whole time, Y/N. Just go out and put it to good use.”

* * *

Bucky was supposed to meet you at your door at seven. The two of you were just going to walk to the gym, since it was only a couple of blocks away.  

You glanced one last time in the mirror. The dress you’d picked out when you’d gone shopping with Bucky still looked great on you. Your hair was done, along with some light makeup, and you’d calmed down enough to stop sweating so much.

When he finally knocked, you walked over (carefully, as you were wearing new shoes, too) and answered the door.

_You nearly fell over._

Bucky was wearing a suit that was completely black, even the dress shirt. He had a bit of light stubble on his face, and he looked _so damn good_ , like he stepped off a Tom Ford runway or something. How did he _do_ that? Your breath hitched in your throat for a second, before you shook it off and smiled. “All black, too?”

“We’re from the city,” he reminded you, chuckling. “We have to look the part. Professional yet youthful. Besides, I wanted to match you. You look amazing, by the way.”

Your face heated up almost instantly. “So do you.”

He held out his arm with a small smile. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” You linked your arm with his, and the two of you remained that way for the entire walk to your old high school.

* * *

The building looked the same as it ever did, except for the new paint job. Someone had strung fairy lights all over the place, and a big banner welcomed your class to its ten year reunion in the official school colors.

You let go of Bucky as the two of you made your way inside.

“Oh geez,” you muttered, wringing your hands nervously. There were so many familiar faces, except now they looked so grown up. “This is _so weird_.”

Bucky reached out and took your right hand into his left, squeezing it gently. “Don’t focus on them. Focus on you, and what you want from tonight.” He flashed a quick smile before turning his attention back to the line.

Easy for him to say. He had no clue the affect he was having on you just by holding your hand. Plus, one look at Bucky, and Natasha would probably sign over the papers to her future firstborn. He was that convincing, but also that enticing. Your stomach started churning at the thought of her meeting him, though you knew it was inevitable. It was necessary. It was _the point_ of tonight.

The two of you kept shuffling forward, until finally it was your turn at the name tag table.

A very familiar blonde woman sat there, smiling at you. “Hi, Y/N! Wow, it’s been so long!” She stood up and hurried around the table to throw her arms around you.

Oh crap. Her name was… _what was her name_?

“Virginia!” It finally hit you. She had been in lots of your classes, especially senior year. Everyone called her Ginny in school, though she hated that nickname. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

She pulled away from you and smiled. “Yeah, you know, none of the officers could be bothered to actually do any work for this event, so here I am!” She turned to Bucky. “And I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you?”

Bucky gave her his million-dollar smile. “My name is James Barnes, ma’am, and you probably don’t remember me because I didn’t go to school here.”

Ginny just about lost it, her smile was so wide. “Oh, no wonder I didn’t recognize you! I think it’d remember someone as handsome as you going to our school.”

You bit back a grin, seeing Bucky’s face falter in embarrassment for the first time ever. Leave it to a bold personality like Ginny’s to make Bucky blush.

“Here, let me find your name tag, Y/N. Hmmm…there it is!” She turned back to you with your name tag, which turned out to be just a sticker. You peeled the backing and placed it on your dress carefully.

“Write your name on one of the spare stickers,” Ginny instructed to Bucky. You watched as he carefully wrote James on his name tag.

“Seemed a bit more professional,” he supplied when he saw the look you were giving him.

“Ah,” you nodded. “I’m going to end up calling you Bucky all night, just a forewarning. And who knows what I’ll call you if I have a couple of drinks!”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head as he turned back to your old classmate. “It was nice to meet you, Virginia.”

“You too! Good seeing you again, Y/N, don’t be a stranger!”

You gave her a warm smile and let Bucky lead you by the hand further into the gymnasium.

The whole space was _beautiful_. There was no way you’d ever recognize that it was a gymnasium from the way it looked tonight. There were tons more fairy lights, with white cloth covering all the unsightly parts of the walls, and lots of welcome banners all around. It almost looked like a wedding reception was going on instead of a class reunion.

The gym floor had been divided into two sections. The first half was filled with tables, complete with centerpieces and fancy place settings. To the side of those were the buffet-style catering tables.

The second section was a makeshift dance floor, with a DJ booth, mood lighting, and a couple little laser lights that flashed pattern onto the floor.

Much to your relief, right in the middle of the gym was a bar, where many people were already gathering. If anyone knew how to make the most of an open bar, it was your classmates.

“This is freaky,” you commented, eyes wide as you glanced around.

“It’s nice.”

You turned to see Bucky’s expression. His blue eyes were just as intrigued as he took everything in. He turned to look at you. “It’s a nice party. It isn’t how I pictured it at all.”

Now you made a face at him. Was that nearly an insult? “What were you expecting?”

“Oh, calm down,” he said with a chuckle. “I meant I only know what I’ve seen in movies. This is just much nicer than what I’ve seen in movies.”

“You never went to your reunion?” He was a little older than you, so his ten year reunion had come and gone by now.

“Nope.”

You merely hummed at him as your eyes landed back on the bar. “What do you say we get ourselves a drink and then find our table?”

“Sounds good.”

Bucky kept your hand in his the whole way over to the bar. Boy, he was really laying this on thick, wasn’t he? You were grateful, though, because if you had come to this reunion alone, you’d be mortified by now. Everyone around you seemed to have a date, even if it was just a group of friends who showed up together. 

Once you’d ordered your drinks, you both wandered around from table to table, peering at place cards.

“We’re over here,” Bucky called to you from two tables away. They put you near the bar; that was the best news ever.

Each of these rounded tables held six place settings, so you knew you wouldn’t be alone with Bucky all night. You went over to him and set your clutch down on the table. Bucky pulled out your seat for you, and just as you thanked him and were about to sit, your eyes landed on the place setting across the table from you. The name on the card stood out in bold calligraphy, almost like it was mocking you.

“They sat us all together,” you told him, a frown forming on your face. “They had the nerve _, the actual nerve_ to put me at the same table as them!”

Bucky flopped down in his chair and took a long sip from his drink. He didn’t even need to read the card to know who you meant. “It’s fine, Y/N, that’ll give us more time to talk to her about work.”

You were too busy fuming to agree. “I cannot _believe_ this! Everyone here knows what happened. I was the laughingstock of senior year!”

“Please, Y/N.” His voice was low as he leaned closer to you. “It’ll be okay. I’m here, all right? No one’s going to say a word unless you want them to.”

“So if one of them brings up something uncomfortable, and I want out of the conversation, what should I say?”

He stared at you. “Well, what do most adults do? Say you need to use the restroom, or you’re going to get another drink. Say you want to dance.”

Your eyes widened. “Dance?”

“Well, there _is_ a dance floor, and we are supposed to act like a couple, right? I don’t think it would kill you.”

“No, you’re right,” you agreed, turning your head back to the seats across from you. Maybe Wanda was right, too. “There are lots of ways to remove myself from an uncomfortable situation.”

“Exactly. So, how about we take our first reunion picture of the night, and then have some fun for a while? We’re going to have plenty of time for –“

He was cut off by a female voice.

“Wow, I guess they really did seat us together, didn’t they?”

Your head snapped up, and for the first time in ten years, you found yourself face-to-face with Natasha Romanoff.

You willed yourself to not go into full-blown anxiety mode.

Bucky slid his hand into yours again almost immediately, giving a reassuring squeeze as if to remind you of his presence.

“Natasha.” You managed to find your voice after a couple seconds of stunned silence. “Hi!”

_Hi?_ That was the best you could do? Ugh…this was going to be a long night if you couldn’t even fake small talk with the woman.

You stood up, with Bucky following suit, as she came around the table to greet you. She was alone, but Clint had to be nearby somewhere. After all, according to Facebook, they were joined at the hip. “How are you?”

Bucky’s hand dropped from yours as Natasha reached out to give you a light hug. “I’m doing well. How are you?” She pulled back, her hands still grasping your arms.

“I’m great. This is James, by the way.” You turned to Bucky with pleading eyes, and he stepped forward, shaking Natasha’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Natasha.”

“You as well, James.” She gave him a big smile before turning back to you. “I was wondering if someone would put us at the same table. Clint is here, too, he’s just parking the car. The spaces in the lot were completely gone.”

The fakest laugh you ever heard erupted from your own mouth. “You hear that, honey? I’m glad we decided to walk.” You turned to Bucky, leaning into his shoulder. The corner of his mouth lifted just a little when he realized what you were doing.

Nat raised an eyebrow. “You walked here?”

“We’re staying just a couple blocks away in a hotel,” Bucky explained. “I didn’t want either of us to worry about driving. I wanted my Y/N to focus on having a good time.”

“Ah.” She gave a nod, before turning her eyes toward the bar, her own discomfort becoming evident. “I’m going to go get myself a drink. Do either of you need a refill?”

“We’re fine for now, thanks,” he replied.

Once she was away from the table, you turned to Bucky, eyes wide. “This is going to be a disaster!”

“Don’t panic. Once everyone settles in and has a few drinks, the conversation will get easier. Then we can start discussing Tony Stark’s initiatives, and hopefully leave this place with a sense of accomplishment.” He ran a hand down his face before turning to meet your gaze.

“Yeah, I think a true sense of accomplishment is going to require a lot more rum than this,” you retorted, throwing back the rest of your drink. “Maybe I should have asked her to get me another. That’d be the nicest thing she’s ever done for me.”

Bucky let out a loud laugh. “Lighten up, Y/N. You’re doing really well so far.”

“Am I? I haven’t acted in a long time, I was worried my old drama skills had faded.”

“No, you’re very convincing.” His eyes dropped to his own drink, and he took a generous sip. “I wonder who else is going to be sitting here.”

“Let’s find out.” You reached over and plucked the name card. “Scott Lang. I remember him! He has a great sense of humor.”

Bucky did the same on his side. “It looks like Virginia is over here.”

“I guess that means that two people actually did show up alone,” you mused. “Interesting.”

“What’s so interesting?”

Both you and Bucky looked up as Natasha came back to the table, drink in hand and another person in tow.

Your entire body froze as you locked eyes with Clint Barton.


	7. Chapter 7

No words would come out of your mouth. It was like you’d completely forgotten how to speak at the mere sight of your ex-boyfriend, the man you once thought you would marry someday.

Clint was handsome as ever. His hair was messy, though you knew he liked to style it that way. His body was a little fuller, mostly from muscles that hadn’t been quite so pronounced before. His eyes had laugh lines, kind of like Bucky’s, but they were deeper, as if he spent a lot more time smiling since you last saw him.

That thought nearly bowled you over. You stood up awkwardly, not sure how any of this worked. You’d thought about it a hundred times over the last two weeks, even practiced what you might say, but all of that disappeared at the mere sight of him.

“Y/N.” He greeted you with his customary nod. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Clint.” That was all you could seem to get out.

Bucky stood up beside you at the sound of your ex-boyfriend’s name. He slid an arm around your waist, and the gesture made you feel a little less shaky.

“Hi, I’m James,” he interjected rather smoothly. Bucky reached out a hand and Clint shook it.

It was _so weird._

“James is Y/N’s boyfriend,” Natasha explained. Her eyes met yours, and you were surprised to see they had a little bit of sympathy and understanding in them. Then again, she’s the one that helped make this awkward in the first place.

You were gonna get to the bottom of why someone put you guys at the same table before the night was over, that was for sure.

“Nice to meet you.” Clint pulled his hand back and looked at you again. “You look good, Y/N. It’s been far too long.”

Little flames of anger began to burn inside of you. Just as you were about to open your mouth for a snarky retort and make everything more awkward, Bucky squeezed you to him again.

“Doll, why don’t we go get some food,” he suggested. “I’m starving!”

“That sounds good,” you agreed, turning from the table. You walked as calmly as possible away from the table to the buffet, not even bothering to wait for Bucky.

“Listen, Y/N.” His voice was low in your ear as the two of you reached for plates. “Any time you get the urge to say something you might regret, or react in a way that isn’t beneficial to you, just look at me, okay?”

“Look at you? So you can smooth over the business transactions?” Your eyes scanned the different pans of food in front of you, trying not to take out your anger on Bucky. He was only trying to help, just trying to keep your emotions in check. Though you were definitely not hungry now, you figured you shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach, so you started scooping food onto your plate.

“No,” he countered, taking the spoon for the mashed potatoes from your hand when you offered it. “So that you don’t have even more bad memories from this place. Come on, we can try to salvage something, can’t we?”

With a spoon of green beans halfway to your plate, you stopped and looked at him in question. “Salvage something?”

Bucky offered you a small smile. “Yeah. Maybe we’ll see the start of something amazing tonight. Who knows?”

You scoffed, turning back to the food. “Bucky, you’re dreaming if you think that woman has any connections. It was dumb to assume any of this. If she did, she’d have bragged about them ten times by now just to impress you.”

“So what if she doesn’t? We stick to the plan. Besides, that’s not what I meant when I said-“

“Ladies and gentlemen!”

The two of you quickly finished and hurried back to your seats as the reunion introduction began. The lights dimmed a little, and a spotlight shined over Virginia as she stood at the podium in the corner. She pushed some of her blonde bangs out of her eyes, and grinned at everyone before continuing.

“Thank you all for joining us this evening. I’m so happy that you were able to make it to our ten year reunion!”

A smattering of applause broke out, but it didn’t last very long.

Virginia’s expression faltered slightly at the low enthusiasm, but she pressed on. “Today marks ten years since we last roamed these halls as students. It’s been ten years since our biggest worries were passing calculus, and who we were going to the homecoming dance with.”

You cringed a little; Clint had been your date for the senior homecoming dance. You saw him glance at you in your periphery, but you refused to meet his eyes.

What a miserable night _that_ had been. He was a candidate for Homecoming King, and of course Natasha had been on the court for Queen. Clint didn’t win, but Nat did. Nat was _always_ winning.

They had actually danced together about five times that night, now that you thought about it. Had they been in love that entire school year? What did eighteen-year-olds know about love, anyways?

Bucky must have caught on that you were silently fuming again, because he reached for your hand. He didn’t even tear his eyes from Virginia, that’s how smooth he was.

You felt calmer almost instantly, though you’d missed half of what Virginia had said after ‘homecoming’ while you were lost in thought.

“So anyways, have a great time tonight, catch up with your old friends, and don’t forget to share your photos on our Facebook page! Thank you!”

Everyone clapped again except you and Bucky, because you were gripping his hand too tightly for him to pull away.

He turned to you, his brows creased a little. “What’s wrong now?”

You shook your head, not wanting to say it out loud. “Nothing.”

Bucky frowned a little. He clearly knew you were holding something back, but he didn’t push you any further. When you finally let his hand go, you immediately reached for your drink, taking a few gulps of liquid courage.

Virginia and Scott Lang eventually joined your table of six, and that immediately helped lighten the mood. Scott was really good at impressions, and he spent a few minutes mimicking your former Spanish teacher. Virginia was all smiles, but you noticed that she turned most of the conversation away from her personal life. That struck you as a little odd for a woman who just encouraged everyone to catch up.

Just as Scott was diving into an impression of your tenth grade history teacher, you made the mistake of glancing up. Your eyes met Clint’s over the table centerpiece.

Had he been _watching_ you?

Your face heated up almost immediately, and you glanced down at your food, willing Clint and Natasha to go get a drink, or leave the table for any reason at all.

Luckily, some music started up from the DJ booth, and some of the couples were heading to the dance floor. You spotted your old chemistry lab partner Jon and his boyfriend, Yvonne the math genius and her husband, former cheerleader Thalia and two of her besties…everyone looked like they were ready to have fun.

For you, however, this was _just for work_.

As long as you made it about work, you couldn’t be sad, right? You couldn’t be disappointed, couldn’t delve into bad memories that just brought you down. 

Time to refocus on work.

You leaned over to Bucky. “I think you have to ask Nat to dance if you want to get insider info.”

His blue eyes widened a little. “Why can’t I just sit in Scott’s seat? He asked Virginia to dance, no one is sitting there.”

“You could try it, but Clint’s still sitting there listening in, and there’s no way in hell _I’m_ going to distract him, so…”

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right.” He raked a hand through his hair, leaving it a little messier than before. He was still far too handsome to be sitting in this stupid gymnasium. “Let me try talking first, okay?”

“Okay.”

He got up, letting one hand slide across your shoulders as he made his way to the seat on your left. You weren’t sure if that was meant for show, or to offer you some encouragement.

You also didn’t know which pitch he was aiming for, and frankly, the sight of him smiling at Natasha was nauseating.

It was time to get another drink.

* * *

At the makeshift bar, at least five people had recognized you. They complimented you on your looks, your dress, and especially your date. You pretended that all was well, that it wasn’t a lie, and gushed on and on about your relationship with _James_. In fact, the more you had to drink, the easier it became to smoothly lie to all these people. It’s not like you’d ever see them again, anyways. This was definitely going to be your first _and_ last reunion.

A girl that used to serve on the student council with you nodded over your shoulder. “Speaking of that handsome devil, here he comes!”

You turned and saw Bucky approaching, his expression unreadable. “Excuse me, I think I’m going to make my date dance with me now.”

Just as you turned from the bar, Bucky reached for you, taking the drink from your hand and setting it down. He led you over to the dance floor as if he’d read your mind. “We need to talk.”

“Okay?” You wrapped your left arm around his shoulder, and he held your right hand in his left hand, his other arm going around your waist as he pulled you closer. The song was _Chasing Cars_ by Snow Patrol, a song that was popular when you were in school.

It seemed a little too romantic for this situation, but whatever.

“What’s up?” you asked him, looking anywhere but his face.

“You were right. Natasha is an executive assistant, and she also dabbles in security for Mr. Stark,” he explained. “She’s got no connections whatsoever to patents or research and development. She has no connections to anything we need.”

“Great,” you muttered, glancing at him again. “So this is all for nothing then?”

“Not necessarily. She might still get us in the door.”

“So you are definitely going to have to dance with her, then.”

“Unfortunately. But, I didn’t want my first dance of the night to be with anyone but you, since you’re my date and all.” The corner of his mouth quirked up.

You snickered a little. “Gee, thanks. I feel so honored.”

“You should. I don’t slow dance with just anyone.”

His expression was playful, and for the first time in a while, Bucky looked sincerely relaxed. Those damn butterflies started doing back flips in your stomach again.

“What?” Bucky made a face at you. “Why are you looking at me like I’m doing something suspicious?”

“I’m not,” you protested, unable to stop a little smile from forming. “It’s just, you keep surprising me.”

“How so?”

You shrugged. “You’re so focused and cold at work, and then you come here and you’re joking with me, and you’re a hell of a dancer. I don’t know what to make of you, Bucky.”

A little mischievous twinkle appeared in his eyes. “How do you know I’m not just schmoozing you right now to make my work life better?”

“I don’t,” you admitted. “But I have a feeling that this is how you really are, and you’ve just developed a persona for work purposes. How close is that to the truth?”

The intensity of the look he was giving you made a chill roll down your spine. It was like that scene in Pride and Prejudice, when Elizabeth and Darcy are dancing, and the rest of the crowd disappears, leaving them staring at each other. You couldn’t tear your eyes away.

“It’s true,” he agreed finally. “I’m not very easy to get to know. It’s a combination of self-preservation and ego, I guess. I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just remember this moment the next time you want to get snarky with me about work.” You flashed him a grin.

Those handsome laugh lines made an appearance, and he was about to offer a comeback when Clint appeared behind him. He tapped on Bucky’s shoulder, much to your horror.

“May I cut in?”

Bucky looked over his shoulder, then his worried blue eyes shifted to yours.

“It’s fine,” you told him, pulling away reluctantly. “Now’s your chance.”

He nodded, though he was frowning now. With one last look, he turned and walked through the crowd to retrieve Natasha for a dance.

Clint immediately wrapped both arms around you, holding you awkwardly against him the way he used to at school dances. You didn’t know where to put your arms, so you sort of just let them rest on his shoulders. It was the classic middle school dance post, and it was kind of embarrassing.

None of this felt right at all.

“I know I told you already, but you look great,” he told you, offering his famous smirk.

“So do you.” You shifted uncomfortably. “I’m glad you and Nat are still happy.”

“Are _you_ happy?”

You blinked at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I just…seeing you here tonight, it’s really weird, Y/N.”

“You’re telling me!”

“I used to be able to read your expressions, your tone of voice. Now, I’m just assuming, I guess.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m doing well.” You became hyper aware of his hands on your lower back, and your spine stiffened awkwardly. If he took notice, it didn’t show.

Clint’s smirk faded. “I didn’t realize how much I missed seeing you until tonight.”

Uh-oh. Where was he going with this? “Clint, I don’t mean this to sound rude or terrible, but I don’t think it’s possible for us to be friends. There’s too much history. We can be polite, civil, whatever, but I can’t deal with it.”

“So you’re saying you never forgave me?”

You shook your head. “I forgave both of you a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean what you did doesn’t still hurt from time to time. I just meant that I’ve moved on, at least I’ve been trying my best to. I have to let this situation go, and I can’t do that if you’re constantly in my life.”

“That’s a shame, but I guess I can understand that. Nat and I really did a number on you, didn’t we?”

“We don’t have to talk about it, Clint, I would rather-“

“Natasha is pregnant,” he blurted out. “We’re going to get married this summer. I didn’t want you to find out on Facebook or something.”

You faltered only for a moment, before throwing on your best forced smile. “That’s wonderful news, congratulations.” The fact that you didn’t feel anything when he said that was a great relief.

He also seemed relieved at your reaction. Clint started talking again, but your eyes had wandered over to where Bucky was now holding Natasha in a slow dance.

She was _smiling_ at him.

That made you _furious,_ even though you’d just heard firsthand that she was engaged to Clint.

“So tell me about James.”

Your eyes flickered back to Clint’s face. “James is…I’m sorry, this is still really weird for me.”

He laughed. “Trust me, it’s strange for me, too, but I need to know you’re happy. I want to know he’s good for you, even if I don’t have the right anymore.”

Oh, if only you could tell the truth in that moment. James – _Bucky_ \- was too good for you, and you knew it. “James is wonderful,” you said finally. “He’s smart, funny, considerate…he’s a good man.”

Clint nodded, giving you a tight smile. “Sounds like he’s better for you than I ever was.”

“I think you’re with who you were meant to be with.”

The song finally ended, and you stepped back from Clint’s grasp, relishing the fact that it was over.

“Thanks for the dance, Y/N.” He offered you one last smile.

“Thanks for asking, Clint.”

The two of you turned away from one another, and you knew you finally felt the closure with him that you’d been craving. You hoped that he felt a similar peace.

You needed a break from dancing, so you wandered off to the side of the dance floor to head back to your table.

Bucky seemed to have the same idea as you, and he followed you to the edge of the seating area. “Have a nice dance?”

“It was okay. How was your dance with Natasha?” Jealousy was simmering inside of you, but there was no way you’d let _him_ know that.

“Okay.” His tone was flat.

“Did you get anywhere with Nat?” 

“Nowhere.” Bucky shook his head, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I think you were right, this whole thing was a bad idea.”

That got your attention. “You were so sure of yourself earlier, what the hell happened?”

He shifted on his feet and shrugged one shoulder. “It just seems like all my efforts tonight aren’t doing me any good at all.”

Ah, the cold coworker Bucky seemed to be making a special appearance. You had figured it was only a matter of time before he shut you out again for the sake of his career. “There’s only so much a person can do, Bucky. I can’t make her connection to Mr. Stark better. I don’t think I can help you land this account.”

“Yeah, you’ve gone totally off-script tonight. Have you even thought about work, or has this been all for the sake of your ex-boyfriend?” His tone was clipped now, like he was angry with you.

Much to your horror, you felt your eyes welling with tears, and you glanced away from him as quickly as possible so that he wouldn’t see. “I’m sorry if I wasted your time here. I tried to warn everyone, I tried to tell you…”

“Y/N, I’m _sorry_. That’s _not_ what I meant, it came out wrong. Will you look at me?” He reached out a hand to grasp your arm, but you pulled it away.

“Excuse me.” Instead of facing him like an adult, you pushed your way through the crowd to the ladies room. At least he couldn’t follow you in here to tell you more about how you were hurting his career, how being paired with you was bringing down his success rate or whatever.

Virginia was standing at the mirror, reapplying her lipstick carefully. When she saw your reflection, she frowned. “What’s the matter, Y/N? You look like you’re about to cry?”

You knew what you had to do. 

It was time to tear this whole operation to shreds and be honest, even if it was just to one other person. If you were going down, you were gonna go down swinging. “Can I talk to you for a second? I have a little confession. It’s totally irrelevant to you, but you have always been so nice to me, and if I don’t tell _someone_ I’m going to implode.”

She turned to face you, eyes wide.


	8. Chapter 8

“ _Wait_!” Virginia held a hand up to stop you. “Just wait, okay? I have a confession, too.’

You made a face. Now was _not_ the time for this. “Okay?”

She took a few steps closer to you, and you watched as she leaned down to see if anyone was in the stalls.

Once she was satisfied there was no one else in the restroom, she looked back at you. “I was the one who changed the seating arrangements. The class officers asked for my help, so…I sat you and your date across from Clint and Natasha…on purpose.”

This didn’t make _any_ sense. Why would she do that to you? You stared at her in confusion.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she continued, brushing her hair behind her ear. “It wasn’t spur-of-the-moment. I did it on purpose. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

“Why does any of this matter to you?” You eyed her carefully. “You’ve never cared in the last ten years. No calls, no emails, nothing…why now?”

Virginia shrugged. “I have my reasons. Either way, I really am sorry. I never wanted it to end up like this. I hope you believe me on that note, at least.”

Moments like this were ones that you absolutely hated.

Every so often, someone that you trusted would find a way to disappoint you. Sometimes they would be _so pure_ in their intentions that you could not reasonably stay angry with them.

This was one of those moments.

She wouldn’t tell you why, but you knew it couldn’t have been anything vindictive. It wasn’t in her nature.

“It’s fine. Honestly, Ginny, I’m at peace with it now. I really do think Clint and Nat belong together. Maybe they always did, I don’t know.”

“Plus, you have _James_ now,” she added, smiling. “And he seems amazing.”

“He is,” you agreed. “But that’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about. I need to know that I can still trust you, though, if I do tell you.”

She nodded eagerly. “I promise, I won’t tell a soul.”

You took a deep breath. “James and I ar-“

The door swung open then, interrupting your would-be confession. You turned to see Natasha peering in the door.

“There you are! Ginny, the DJ is looking for you! He said something about music for the reunion video?”

Virginia looked more than frustrated when she glanced back at you. “I’m sorry, we’ll have to continue this after. Okay?”

“Sure.” You moved aside so she could exit, though you were not looking forward to alone time with your former bestie.

“What was that about?” Nat asked, moving in to fluff her hair at the mirror. “You all right?”

“I’m fine, Natasha.” You made a move to leave, but her soft voice stopped you, like it had so many times in the past. _Stupid nostalgia_.

“Hey, Y/N?”

You wordlessly looked over your shoulder at her.

“I guess now you know why I got a vodka cranberry without the vodka,” she joked, her eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “Clint told me what you said, you know, about being happy for us. I wanted to say thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You offered a small smile. If nothing else, at least _that_ was the truth. It was easy to see how right they were for each other. They would be great parents.

When she didn’t say anything else, you gave yourself permission to leave without feeling guilty. 

* * *

Bucky was nowhere to be seen once you got back to your table. “Have I been ditched?”

Scott looked up at you with mild interest. “Your date said he had to go get some air.”

“That’s fine.” You flopped down in your chair beside him, looking at him expectantly. “So Scott, how come you’re here alone?”

“I guess you didn’t listen to all the gossip? Maggie kicked me out. We’re, uh…separated,” he supplied with a shrug. “Headed for divorce, I’m sure. It’s cool, though. It’s just like I always pictured: I’m here alone, with nothing good to talk about at a reunion where everyone else seems really successful and happy.”

“Not true,” you argued, ignoring his sarcasm. Scott was too sweet to be this down in the dumps. “I’m a disaster tonight. I’ll probably be fired from my job soon, and I’ve been fighting with James for the last half-hour or so. I think he might even hate me now.”

He shook his head. “That sucks, man.”

“Don’t forget, Scott, you’ve got Cassie.”

That brought a big smile to his face. “You’re right. I guess I have one thing going for me, after all.”

You hummed at him in agreement, and the two of you fell into a comfortable, contemplative silence. Your thoughts drifted to Bucky, and you wondered if you ought to go searching for him.

After about a minute, Scott spoke up again. “Do you think James is the one?”

You glanced up. How do you even answer a question like that? Of course you didn’t think he was _The One._ “I haven’t known him long enough to even think that sort of thing, Scott.”

“Sometimes you just _know_ , though, don’t you think? Like…”

It was obvious which couple he meant, but you wanted him to say it out loud. “Like?”

He cleared his throat. “Like Natasha and Clint.”

“Ah.” Your mouth quirked up a little. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe some people just know. I don’t consider myself to be one of the lucky ones.”

“Well, if you could have seen his face after you stormed off, maybe you’d be a believer.”

Your eyes widened in question, but he merely shrugged at you. “I’m going to get another drink. Don’t make yourself sad, Y/N. This is a freakin’ party. If I can manage after the shitstorm I just went through with Maggie, so can you.”

* * *

Bucky wandered back to the table not long after Scott migrated to the bar. He sat beside you silently.

You refused to look up at him, focusing instead on the table in front of you. The fairy lights along the walls made your glass of water sparkle. It was funny how mere hours ago, you’d admired the lights. Now you wished it was darker in here, so no one could see the misery etched across your face.

When the hell did you get so _emo?_

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Bucky murmured. He rested his chin on his hand, with his elbow propped up on the table in front of him as he turned to look at you.

“It’s all right.” You still wouldn’t look at him.

“It isn’t,” he countered. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I’m sorry.”

“Really, it’s fine.”

“ _Y/N_.”

“ _Bucky_.”

He sighed through his nose. “Do you want to call it a night?”

“It’s only ten o’clock. Plus, we haven’t gotten _anywhere_ with Natasha.”

Bucky leaned back in his chair. “This whole evening was planned to the letter, and naturally, none of it has gone the way I thought it would.”

You chuckled humorlessly. “I don’t get you. At _all.”_

“What do you mean?”

You finally looked up at him. “You think that you can somehow control life, by making lots of plans and knowing the right people. I don’t know what made you believe that you could control everything, but I know firsthand that life is chaos, and we’re all just along for the ride.”

“My world was a lot more predictable before they factored you into it,” he mused. “This is definitely a new experience for me.”

That was totally uncalled for. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just trying to salvage our evening,” Bucky said calmly. “Please don’t get upset.”

“Salvage your _own_ evening. I’m getting another drink.”

There was no real rhyme or reason for your behavior, and you knew it. Everything he was saying was _technically_ true. But, as in most moments with Bucky since this whole charade started, you let your irrationality get the best of you.

When you got to the bar, Scott was still standing there talking to the bartender. You figured that drinking with a buddy was better than drinking alone, so you tapped him on the shoulder.

“One more shot?”

He nodded, a little evil grin appearing on his face. “Now you’re talking! One more shot for the lady, please!”

‘One more shot’ turned to two more, and you knew if you didn’t stop at two, there’d be hell to pay later. Tequila never lent itself to good decision-making.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the alcohol in your system. You pulled Scott closer for your own amusement, while a low hum of energy worked its way through you.

“If you’re trying to make James jealous, I think it’s working,” Scott said awkwardly in your ear.

“I seriously doubt that!”

“Turn around.”

You turned, only to find Bucky standing right behind you. His eyes were wide and stormy. 

“ _James_ ,” you greeted him haughtily. “Is there something you needed?”

“Y/N. What are you doing?” He moved a little closer to you.

You felt your breath hitch. Being in close proximity with Bucky after doing shots was definitely on the _bad idea_ list. He smelled really good, and he looked even better. “I’m trying to have fun.”

“I can see that.” Bucky took another step closer, until he was standing so close you could pick out the different shades of blue and grey in his eyes. “We have work do to, don’t forget.”

“You can handle Natasha. You’ve been handling her pretty well tonight so far, wouldn’t you say?” Crap. Now _you_ were the jealous one.

“Why don’t you take a break from drinking and…whatever this is, and come sit back down with me, okay? I’ll get you some more water, and we can talk. I think there’s been a huge misunderstanding.”

“I can’t talk to her while Clint is there,” you protested, turning back to Scott, who was backing away from the two of you slowly.

“Don’t ruin this for us,” Bucky pleaded, reaching for your elbow and turning you to face him again. “No games, okay? Besides, Natasha is back at the table. We have to see this through, and-”

You got in his face then, your own fury mixing with the tequila to double your bad decisions. “Don’t worry, Bucky. I’ll see it through by resigning on Monday. I’ll tell T’Challa this was all my fault. You won’t have to put up with me ever again, and your _precious reputation_ will stay intact.”

Before he could say another word, you turned on your heels and moved as quickly as you could to lose him in the crowd, not wanting him to see how much this whole night was hurting you.

He made you _so freaking mad!_ This was the stupid elevator thing all over again. What right did he have to treat you like this, then accuse _you_ of playing games? You were _both_ lying to everyone!

You spotted Virginia from across the room. It was now or never.

* * *

“Can we _please_ talk now? Ginny, _please_?”

“All right, all right,” she replied, putting her hand on your back as she led you back into the ladies restroom. “Come on.”

She locked the door this time. “Spill. What’s on your mind that has you so worked up?”

“I came here tonight with James to get a lead on a new account for work, not to see anyone.” The truth spilled from your mouth with ease, and you waited for her reaction.

Her eyes widened a little. “What do you mean, a new account?”

“Natasha works for Stark Industries,” you explained. “I work for Wakanda, Inc. It’s a –“

“I know what it is,” Virginia interrupted, waving her hand. “Go on.”

“My boss thought that if I came here tonight and talked to Natasha, she might be able to get me a meeting with Mr. Stark,” you continued. Maybe you shouldn’t have had so many tequila shots. You were practically rambling now. “I didn’t come here to make peace with her. I showed up to use her connections.”

Virginia stared at you for a moment. “Y/N, I knew.”

“I know, I know, it’s _terrible_ , and I- wait, _what_?”

“I said, _I knew_. I knew this whole time, Y/N. I knew you worked for Wakanda, Inc. I know who _Bucky_ really is. He doesn’t remember me, but I remember him from a meeting a few weeks ago, when your company first threw its hat in the ring for Tony Stark’s contract.” She gave you a rueful smile. “I knew.”

Now you really regretted the shots. Why didn’t Bucky mention any of this to you?  “There was a meeting?” you repeated weakly, feeling stupid for not knowing.

Virginia nodded at you. “Nothing too formal, just an introduction, but yes there was a meeting. You aren’t the only one with a fancy Manhattan job, Y/N. I work for Stark Industries.”

“And…what do you do for Stark Industries?” You were almost afraid to ask.

“I help run it. They call me Pepper, though. I’ve always hated the nickname Ginny, so I was really relieved when I got a new nickname my first week there.”

Oh no.

_Oh shit!_

Your thoughts were racing. “That still doesn’t explain why you suspected my motives for tonight? Did someone else tip you off?”

“No, actually. Bucky’s reputation precedes him. I’ve heard about how he’s married to his job, how he’s one of the best in the business…” She stepped closer to you. “I’ve also seen the proposals, and your name was on the list of potential account managers. When I saw it listed there, I was able to piece it together pretty easily.”

You watched her eyes as she rounded on you. 

“I wanted to see what would happen, if you want to know the truth. I wanted to see the lengths you guys would go for this contract. I’m very protective of Tony. I have to say, Y/N, I was very impressed with Bucky.”

“You were?”

“He seemed interested in doing whatever it took to get the contract,” she explained, raising an eyebrow at you. “He even flirted with Natasha a little. He’s truly dedicated.”

Your stomach lurched again at the thought of him hitting on Natasha, or even the idea of them talking.

Ginny – _no, Pepper_ – sighed. “I bet you didn’t plan on the one problem in this whole fake-relationship scenario, did you?”

“You mean the part where I just blew our chances by confessing to you?” You looked down at the tiles below your feet dejectedly. The familiar sting of unshed tears caused your eyes to burn. Bucky had been right earlier. Life didn’t cause chaos, _you_ did.

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

You glanced back up in confusion. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Pepper.”

“Your feelings for Bucky, silly,” she retorted with a sympathetic smile. “And his feelings for you, of course. The two of you are being so clueless tonight, I feel bad for you.”

“That’s ridiculous.” You shook your head at her. “This is all for work. Bucky is the best at what he does, and he’d do anything to secure a new client.”

A perfect blonde eyebrow arched on her face. “Please, Y/N. We might not have seen each other in ten years, but I still know you. You wear your heart on your sleeve a lot.”

You remained silent, unsure of what to say to that. She wasn’t entirely wrong about you, but she was _way_ off about Bucky.   
  
”I should also mention, because I consider us to be friends, that I am dating Tony Stark.”  
  
Oh, this was just fan- _freaking_ -tastic. Just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, life goes and ups the ante on you. “Great,” you muttered, glancing down again. How the hell were you going to explain this to Bucky? You were just being over-dramatic when you said you were going to resign earlier, but now you just might have to.  
  
The sound of a stall door unlocking startled you both. You cursed mentally, realizing that neither of you checked to see if anyone was in the restroom before you started spouting all these truths.  
  
Natasha stepped out, her expression beyond furious as she went to wash her hands.  
  
You exchanged a look with Pepper. “Nat, I can explain.” 

“That’s all this was to you then, huh? You and your coworker lying to our faces?” Natasha whirled around to glare at you. “I thought maybe tonight I could finally get your friendship back. I know I messed up in the past, but I’ve spent the last t _en years_ feeling guilty and apologizing for it. I _never_ expected you to be like this now.”

“Please,” you whispered, feeling much more sober than before. “I forgave you guys, I tried to-“

Her big blue eyes filled with tears. “Tried to _use me_? Yeah. I might have hurt you in the past, but I was a _kid_ then. You’re an _adult_! You were _never_ like this when you lived here on Long Island. Maybe the city really did ruin you.”

With that, she pushed past you, unlocking the door and leaving you to stand there in stunned silence.

Pepper sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Y/N, whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m sorry, Pepper. I’m a terrible person. Please don’t punish Bucky or the company for my mistakes. I’m so sorry.”

You fled the restroom before she could utter another word.

* * *

You fled to the hallway, where you leaned up against a row of lockers, letting your head fall back against the metal in frustration. Tears were still threatening to fall, but now you had a new emotion on top of everything else: _self-hatred_.

“Why the hell did I come back here?” Your tearful voice echoed down the hallway.

“Because T’Challa asked you to.”

You turned your head and saw Bucky walking toward you, looking just as unhappy as the last time you saw him.

“I just had an interesting conversation with Natasha. Apparently you confessed everything about our pitch in the restroom to Virginia, and she heard it all?” For the second time that night, his eyes were like storm clouds, dark and furious.

“I did.” There was no reason to lie to him. _He was just doing his job._

Bucky ran a hand down his face in disbelief. “And your former classmate, Virginia, is really Pepper Potts, Tony Stark’s girlfriend?”

“She is,” you confirmed quietly. “She used to go by Ginny. I didn’t know at the time, Bucky, I swear, I-“

“You realize that this sets us back, right? Maybe even ends our bid?” Bucky began pacing back in forth in front of you, his hands tugging on his hair in frustration. “This was a huge deal for Wakanda, Inc. We could lose our jobs, Y/N.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose. I thought I could tell Gi- _Pepper_ , because I’ve known her for years, and she’s never been anything but kind to me. I thought I could talk it out, and she would help me find a way to get Natasha on our side…”

Bucky shook his head. “I asked you not to ruin this for us, didn’t I? So what do you do except the exact opposite? You said earlier tonight that you didn’t get me at all. Well, right back at you, doll.”

You bit your lip, eyes watching him turn in circles as he tried to come to some unknown conclusion about you.

“At work, you’re so diligent, so calm and focused, willing to get things done the right way. But you come here, see your ex-boyfriend, and you let things get out of hand _so fast_ that everyone’s left standing in your wake, in your _damage path_ , wondering what just happened.”

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t know what else to say. It was stupid, and you knew nothing could fix this now.

It was _over_.

Bucky stopped pacing to meet your gaze. “I’m sorry, too.” After a few beats of staring at you with those beautiful blue eyes, he turned and headed for the exit.

You took a few steps forward, but stopped yourself from following him. “Bucky, where are you going?”

“Back to the hotel,” he replied over his shoulder, not bothering to stop. “This whole thing was a bad idea. I can’t be here anymore.” He disappeared through the glass doors, leaving you alone against the lockers.

So much for salvaging the evening and making new memories. The night was turning out to be just as big a disaster as you’d expected it to be, back when you first told Wanda you wanted nothing to do with your reunion.

The tears you’d been holding back started streaming down your cheeks, and you buried your face in your hands to muffle the sobs.


	9. Chapter 9

The only sounds in the hallway were your occasional sniffle and the low hum of music from inside the gym. You hadn’t bothered to move from your spot along the lockers since Bucky took off. You figured there was no point until you could at least calm down.

Your solitude was short-lived.

“Hey, Y/N?”

You glanced up at the sound of Clint’s voice, trying in vain to wipe your makeup and tears away. Nothing you could do to hide the fact that you’d completely lost it in the hallway a little while ago. “Hey.”

His eyes were sad, but not filled with pity. “I, uh, brought your bag. Figured you might need it.”

Clint handed you the clutch you’d carelessly left on the table. Your phone, debit card, and hotel key were still all tucked safely inside.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

There was a few awkward seconds of silence, then you both tried to talk at the same time.

_“Listen, I wanted you to know-“_

_“Don’t worry about Natasha, she’ll-“_

You both chuckled awkwardly, and he motioned for you to go first.

“I just…I wanted you to know that I never meant for anything to get out of hand like it has tonight. I thought it would be a quick thing, and maybe as a bonus we could all make up. My coworker - not James, a girl named Wanda - told me that if I didn’t let this situation go, I’d carry these trust issues for the rest of my life.”

Clint nodded thoughtfully. “Your coworker was right, Y/N. You deserve to find happiness, and if that means letting the past go, then that’s what you have to do.”

You forced a small smile to your face for a brief second. “What were you going to say?”

“Don’t worry about Nat. She’s just a little emotional since we found out about the baby. She’d wanted to buy a house and get settled before any of this happened, but plans change, I guess. She’ll be okay.”

“I still want to talk to her sometime,” you confessed. “I don’t think it’ll ever be like it was, obviously, but I don’t like leaving knowing we’re all still angry.”

He shook his head. “Most of this is my fault anyway, Y/N. It’s not you, it’s not Natasha. I was the one in the wrong in the first place. I’m really, truly sorry for hurting you.”

This Clint was a much more mature version than the one you remembered. He was so unfamiliar to you now, and you knew that fact would help you let this all go.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “I’m sorry for the way everything went down.”

“Do you want me to walk you back to your hotel?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Go back to Nat. Can you tell Scott I said goodbye?”

“Sure. Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll make sure that Nat comes around sometime, I promise.”

“Bye, Clint.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

You turned away from Clint Barton and made your way outside without a single glance back. 

* * *

The last thing you felt like doing was going back to your room to be sad and alone, so you changed direction and headed for the diner. If you only stayed a short while, just long enough to say your farewell to one of your favorite places back home, you could avoid the post-reunion crowd.

A seat at the counter was open, so you sat down and promptly ordered a sundae. Maybe a little chocolatey goodness could help you reason with yourself, and help you sort out your problems like it used to when you were younger. Then again, you always sat here with Nat to talk and share ice cream.

Your thoughts drifted back to how hurt and angry she’d seemed. Apparently, she’d gotten her hopes up for tonight, too. Her assessment of you was completely right, too; you _never_ acted like this. You’d been against it from the beginning.  

The diner was basically empty, except for a few younger kids, probably with the drunken munchies, sitting in a booth by the window. The fluorescent lights seemed a little harsher tonight, but it was probably just your tequila hangover reacting poorly.

You used your spoon to swirl some of the chocolate around the dish. Your lack of appetite was making this even more depressing; it had to be bad when hot fudge sundaes were of little to no comfort.

Why were you letting yourself feel like this? You had solid reasons for trying to get an in with a major potential client. People network _all the time_. Why should tonight be different?

So what if Nat was angry tonight? Anger fades.

So what if you lost your job? There were lots of jobs just like it in the city. It’s not like you were going to be back here, scrounging for whatever someone would offer you. Besides, you didn’t like the person you needed to be to succeed on Bucky’s level at Wakanda, Inc.

And so what if Bucky hated you? You’d lived this long without him, you could keep it up. It’s not like he would ever care about you _like that_ anyways. His job was priority, which was made clear tonight. Scott was insane for suggesting otherwise, and so was Virginia.

Sorry, not Virginia, _Pepper._ You seriously doubted that you’d ever get used to calling her that now.

The little bell on the front door jingled behind you, but you didn’t bother to look. It was too early to be the reunion crowd.

“That looks amazing right about now.”

You froze.

Natasha climbed up onto the stool beside you. She reached for a spoon from a napkin beside her, and started scooping out bites of sundae. “It’s just as good as I remember,” she confirmed, smirking up at you.

All you could do was blink in surprise.

“I know, you’re probably wondering what the heck I’m here for, after I just yelled at you in front of Pepper.” She set the spoon down against the side of the dish, then folded her arms on the counter. “I shouldn’t have done that. I was trying to find a reason to be mad at you, I think, for being mad at me before. Does that make sense?”

“I’m not mad anymore, Nat.” You set your own spoon down and cleared your throat. “I just…”

Her eyes flickered to yours in question.

You shrugged a shoulder. “Being an adult is scary. I don’t know how else to word it. I left here because I thought my high school drama was the worst thing ever. It turns out, having someone else decide your fate all the time is way worse. Control over your destiny is a total joke. I can’t force my boss not to fire me. I can’t force someone to help me get a contract. I especially can’t force someone to actually like me.”

You sighed when she still didn’t say anything. Natasha was finally letting you have your say.

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” you admitted. “Everything was easy for me in school, in college. Now the stakes are higher, and I can’t get anything to go right.”

“I think you’re too hard on yourself, Y/N.” She leaned back with a little shake of her head. “You never used to try to plan anything…it’s not like you. Your strength lies in your ability to use obstacles as life lessons. You use problems as ladders to get yourself to something better. You aren’t the kind of person to sit here and mope, when what you want is so close.”

You let out a humorless chuckle. “And what’s that?”

Natasha’s smirk returned. “Well, for one, that handsome-as-hell coworker of yours is in the most convenient of places, _a hotel room._ ”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake Natasha…”

“Second,” she continued, undeterred. “I had a little chat with Pepper. She really wants you guys to get the contract as soon as possible.”

“Really?” Your puffy eyes widened in disbelief. “She said that? You aren’t messing with me as revenge?”

“No,” Nat laughed. “I am too tired, too in need of this sundae to be that way right now.” She grabbed her spoon again. “Anyways, your company can confirm with her on Monday. There are three conditions she came up with, ones that will protect your company.”

“Go on.” You were in no position to say no if it meant that you could, as Bucky had said earlier, _salvage the evening._

“Your name has to stay off of all the documents. It’s not illegal, but it could get us even more bad press if someone figured out how you’re associated with me or Pepper.”

“I can do that.” _I have no choice,_ you added silently.

“Second, she still needs your team to present the bid to Tony. They have to look at everyone with a good pitch, to be fair. If some other company catches his eye, there’s a chance you lose the contract.”

“That’s fair.” It’s closer than you were earlier, that’s for sure.

Natasha nodded. “The third condition is that whichever one of your cohorts takes the case, they can’t drop it and leave it for a new team to handle. The person involved has to be able to see it through to the end.”

Bucky wasn’t going to like that. He admitted he likes the chase of the new client, sort of putting them in his rear-view mirror once they signed the dotted line. He’d deal, though, if it meant boosting the chance of the company’s survival.

“I think that they can handle that.”

“They?” She raised an eyebrow at you. “You aren’t sure it will be Bucky?”

“I’m not going to promise to be sure of anything anymore, Nat. But, he is lead, and he is the best they have, so I’m sure he’ll be involved.”

“Great. I’ll let Pepper know. She already talked to Tony, and he’s definitely interested. He wants the first pitch to be from Wakanda, Inc.”

Gratitude flooded your whole body. “Thank you, Natasha. You and Pepper really didn’t have to do that for us after how I’ve behaved.”

“And you didn’t have to make amends after how I behaved, but here we are at this damn diner, having the same kind of sundae we used to have.” She paused for a moment. “For the record, I’m glad you showed up tonight.”

You flashed her a genuine smile. “Honestly? Me too.”

* * *

Natasha left with a promise to come visit you sometime during your lunch hour, since you both worked in the city. She and Clint were apparently moving closer so that her commute would be easier in the future, which meant that they’d only be a short train ride away.

You walked slowly back to your hotel room, half taking everything in for memory’s sake, half dreading seeing Bucky again. You knew what you had to do, but it wasn’t going to be easy for you.

After you were safely inside your hotel room, you packed up your things, wrote a quick note explaining everything Nat had told you to Bucky, and shut your door quietly behind you.

You tiptoed to Bucky’s door, leaning over just long enough to shove the rental car keys and your note underneath it. You felt your chest clench at the thought of him just inside the room. Was he still mad? Was he relieved that this was all over?

Would he even care that you were sneaking out?

Better yet, should _you_ even care what he thought?

After all, Bucky had used you, too. You were a means to an end for him. He left you alone in that hallway to cry your eyes out without stopping to hear your side of anything. Could you ever want someone like that? 

He’d seemed so different when you were trouncing around Manhattan taking selfies, or even at your apartment while he snuggled with Mr. Fuzzypants. Playing pretend with him was infinitely better than this reality you’d been thrown into.

How could someone have two completely different sides to them?

You realized tonight that you would never be the kind of person that could tear though lives to get what they wanted. If that’s what they expected you do to in order to get to the top at work, forget it.

If that was the kind of person Bucky wanted you to be, forget him, too.

It was time to look out for yourself, to be cautious with the attachments you formed. You didn’t need to shy away from them, just use a little more care. Like Pepper had said, you wore your heart on your sleeve too much, and it made it easy for others to take advantage of you.

Once you’d checked out of the hotel, you waited for your driver in the lobby. The app said that they were only five minutes away, and it was cheaper than a regular cab, so you figured you’d go ahead with it just to get home sooner. The thought of having to ride in the car with Bucky in the morning was one that you could not stand.

You got the notification saying the driver was out front, so you grabbed your bag, and you had almost made it out the front door when you heard Bucky call your name behind you.

“Wait,” he pleaded. His voice had never sounded quite so uncertain before.

_How did one night cause all this drama?_

You stopped just short of the door, and stared at his reflection in the glass, before turning to face him with a sigh. It hurt to even look at him. These past two weeks had been fun, even if they were for the wrong reasons. He’d grown on you, and you knew you were going to miss him.

“I’m heading back tonight.”

“I can see that.” Bucky’s brows furrowed, and he lifted the hand that was currently clutching your note as he moved toward you. “How did you get them to come around and offer a meeting?”

“I couldn’t tell you. They are just good people, and we go way back. Maybe they felt bad for me, I don’t know. Anyway, I have to go, my ride is here.” You made the move to turn again, but his hands came up to your upper arms and held you in place.

You felt a little tingle roll down your spine at his touch.

“You don’t have to go,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours. You noted they were much lighter than before. 

Your own eyes strayed to his lips. They were so close, all you’d have to do is lean forward a few inches…if you could just lean forward, everything might be different…

But you weren’t going to be working at Wakanda, Inc. much longer. You had no choice but to quit now. You weren’t going to see him anymore. He had a case to work on, a company to save, and you couldn’t be a part of it any longer.

You forced yourself to look back at his eyes, banishing any thoughts of acting on your feelings from your brain. “Actually, Bucky, if you read the note, you know it’s exactly what I have to do. I can’t be involved in this little operation anymore.”

Bucky shifted a little closer, standing in your personal space now. “I don’t want you to leave here angry with me.”

“I just _told_ you, I’m leaving because-“

“You’re leaving because of me,” he argued, shaking his head. “Please, can we at least talk about tonight before you leave? Preferably not in the lobby?”

“You’re the one that took off first, Bucky. You saw how upset I was, and you _left_ _anyway_. So now _I’m_ leaving, okay? Goodnight.” You still couldn’t wriggle from his grasp. “Let me go, let me end tonight on a good note while I still have the chance.”

Bucky leaned in, eyes wide. “The meeting doesn’t matter now. I’ve been sitting here thinking, Y/N, and for the first time in my life, the fucking meeting doesn’t matter to me now.”

“It _doesn’t matter_ now?” You couldn’t believe him. The drama, the pain you’d inflicted on everyone around you suddenly didn’t matter anymore? That was _such bullshit_. “Bucky, you literally made me come here because of the chance at a meeting. You dragged me around town to make me presentable just for this meeting. You prepped me, groomed me, made me behave a certain way, made me feel like I wasn’t enough… _all_ of this, _all_ your actions have been for this _fucking_ _meeting_!”

The driver outside impatiently honked twice, so you pulled away from Bucky.

Exhaustion hit you like an ocean wave.

It wasn’t worth being mad, you realized. It wasn’t worth leaving another relationship in tatters because of this one event. If you were letting one drama go, you had to let them all go. 

“Bucky, look…the compromise, for the good of the deal, was that I back off. I’m going to do that, for the company and for you. But right now, I need to go home, relax, and try to think of what I’m going to do next. I’m going home.” You pulled away from his grasp finally, and took a few steps backwards.

A defeated look crossed his handsome features. “I’m sure we can…there’s something we can do, here, Y/N, you deserve credit…”

You shook your head, then turned to push the lobby door open. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

“It wasn’t all for the meeting,” Bucky called out behind you. “I thought it was, too, but I was wrong.”

“Congratulations, and good luck to you,” you replied, letting the glass door close behind you.

It added some finality to this whole weekend. You tried to tell yourself that this was for the best, that you and Bucky were too different. He was just on edge, and you were emotional, and come Monday, it’d be back to the grind for him. You’d heard before that he was good at trading one person for another, so it probably wouldn’t be anything for him to just move on with his life.

Meanwhile, you were once again sacrificing your own happiness and security for someone else, but this time you were okay with it. Deep down, you knew that you were doing the right thing for once this evening, and that made it worth it.

Your heels clicked loudly on the sidewalk as you made your way to the car. The driver helped you with your bag, and soon you were off, headed back to the city. Monday would bring changes, but maybe you were ready for them. Maybe it was exactly what you needed, after a little rest.

You didn’t bother to take another glance at the hotel door.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader takes some steps to make everything right again, but Bucky Barnes is nowhere to be found.

You have _always_ hated Mondays.

It wasn’t so much that a new work week was starting, although that certainly didn’t help.

No, your hatred of Mondays went a _little_ deeper than that.

It all started with Sunday nights. Sundays were the bane of your existence, to put it mildly. Everything about them felt uncomfortable, like you were waiting for your freedom to be taken from your grasp. You’d watch as it was dragged away to a slow, painful death, with the clock ticking the hours down relentlessly. You never slept well on Sunday nights, either. It sort of felt like the last night of summer vacation before a new school year started, only it happened once a week.

That feeling lent itself to your hatred of Mondays. You were always tired from not sleeping well the night before, you were sad that the weekend was over, and you had _five whole days_ until you had the chance to be free again.

As you got older, it shifted to include a new facet of hatred: each Monday became symbolic for your lack of a meaningful relationship. 

Sam would show up and talk about this great time he had with friends. Wanda would come strolling in with another hopeless romantic story. It seemed had something going on that would make the Monday headlines at work except you. There were only so many times you could smile and say, ‘Nothing exciting happened, how was your weekend?’

This was the first Monday morning in your entire life that you dreaded the question, ‘How was your weekend?’ because of events that actually happened, instead of what didn’t happen.

When you arrived on the seventh floor that particular Monday morning, you kept your eyes straight ahead. Maybe if you walked in like nothing had happened, no news would be good news, and you’d make it through the day without issue.

Sam Wilson naturally had a different idea. “Hey, Big Shot! How’d it go?” he asked cheerfully.

The tone he used was so infuriating, but you knew he couldn’t help it. Never in his wildest dreams could he have guessed the drama that went down last Saturday.

“Fine,” you muttered, logging into your laptop.

Right away, you had two goals to accomplish. The first was to draft a memo to management to explain Bucky’s lead on the new bid, along with Pepper’s contact information.

The second goal was to draft your resignation letter.

“You don’t sound fine to me.” Sam pushed his wheeled chair over to you, reading over your shoulder. “Whoa, a memo already? You got the meeting? That’s great, Y/N!”

“Yeah.” Was he going to do this the whole time?

“Hold up. Is it that they won’t let you participate, or are you removing yourself?”

“Is there something I can help you with, Sam?” you asked in a fake, sugary-sweet voice. “Because I’m here trying to concentrate. I don’t need a play-by-play on what I’m writing.”

“You can’t let them remove you from the meeting, Y/N, it was your score for the company.” One look at Sam’s face proved he was dead serious. You knew he meant well, but he just didn’t have the details.

You shook your head, eyes flitting back to the screen. “It’s Bucky’s meeting to run.”

“That’s not right, do you want me to go to-“

“I’m quitting, Sam,” you interrupted, turning in your chair to look at him again. “After everything that happened this weekend, I realized that I just don’t belong here. I don’t want to work here anymore.”

He stared at you, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he found his voice. “Quitting? What are you going to do for work then?”

“I haven’t thought that part out yet,” you admitted, turning back to the screen. “I’m sure I’ll find something. It’s a big city, right?”

You meant to think of something on Sunday, but you’d spent the whole day lying in bed with Mr. Fuzzypants, feeling sorry for yourself instead. It was most definitely hypocritical after the pep talk you’d had with yourself on the way home from Long Island, but you were just _so tired_.

Wanda had tried calling you for details. Your parents had called to ask how it had gone. Your sister messaged you on Facebook to find out why you hadn’t posted any updates with your ‘sexy boyfriend,’ and worst of all, the reunion page began posting pictures of everyone, making you relive it over and over again.

You had ignored them all, not wanting to talk to anyone. You shut off your phone, stayed off of Facebook, and had a Netflix marathon all day.

Secretly, you’d been hoping to hear from Bucky, though. You couldn’t tell if it was an ego thing, or if you’d grown so used to his company that you just missed him, but when he didn’t call, you added that to your pity party reasons.

“Thought _what_ out yet?”

You cringed. Wanda was here, right on time, for her update in person.

“Y/N got the meeting with Stark, and yet she’s quitting,” Sam filled her in.

“WHAT!?” she shouted.

Every single person nearby stopped to see what was wrong with Wanda. She waved her hand sheepishly at them, before moving into your cube to lean against your desk, arms crossed indignantly. “You’re quitting? What the hell happened this weekend, Y/N?”

Since you obviously weren’t going to be able to accomplish your goals here, you saved your progress and shut your laptop. “We got the meeting, and after that, I realized I didn’t want to work here anymore.”

“But why? You probably just saved the entire company, let alone your own job!” Her eyes were huge, and she looked so confused. “This is a huge deal for you. This will get you noticed from people at the top!”

You leaned back in your chair. “There were conditions to getting a meeting. Long story short, I can’t be on the account because of my connections. It wasn’t just Natasha that I know at Stark Industries. So, if Wakanda, Inc. expects to get a meeting, I have to step away. They don’t want any more trouble over this.”

She shook her head. “That isn’t fair, though, you worked really hard, and-“

“I didn’t, though,” you refuted, grabbing your laptop and standing up to move past them. “I didn’t work really hard. Bucky did. To be honest, I took every chance I got to make life harder at the reunion. So, if you’ll just excuse me…” You turned to leave, not wanting to continue this conversation right now.

Sam and Wanda were left staring at your retreating form in disbelief.

* * *

Luckily, the fifth floor, the one with all the accountants, the floor that Bucky had sent you to on your first day of work as a hazing joke, had a rarely-used conference room. The only reason you knew it existed was because of your little elevator adventure with him months ago.

The memo about the meeting took less than five minutes to finish, and you clicked send with a breath of relief. You reread the last two lines again.

> _At the request of Pepper Potts, Tony Stark’s top assistant and Chief Operating Officer, I am withdrawing my name from the management of this account. Bucky Barnes will remain as the lead manager, and I am certain that with his guidance, Wakanda, Inc. will receive a contract with Stark within the week._

The entire account manager team, including Bucky and T’Challa, were copied on it. Bucky received all the credit, and you meant what you said about his ability to land the deal.

Your resignation was kept short and sweet, too. In it, you thanked management and T’Challa for the experience and opportunity to work at Wakanda, Inc., and mentioned that you felt it would benefit your career and personal life to move on. You wished everyone good fortune for the future as a closing line.

This one was a little harder to send.

It was scary to jump off into the unknown, especially with rent and other bills due each month. It’s not like your savings account was loaded. What if you didn’t find anything? You could always move to Florida with your parents, you supposed, or to California with your sister.

New York City was the greatest love of your life so far, though, and you didn’t want to leave. Your final paycheck from Wakanda, plus vacation payout, could buy you some time to job hunt.

At the last second, you added another contact to the email under _bcc_. With a single click, you sent your resignation off to management.

You let your head fall onto your arms on the desk, just needing a moment to yourself.

* * *

When you made your way back to your desk, you had not only your work laptop with you, which you were going to strip of personal pictures and data, but you also had a giant empty box for your belongings.

Unfortunately, your plan to clean out your desk and sneak away to T’Challa’s office was put on hold. There were about ten people, including Wanda, Sam, and T’Challa, milling around your cube.

“There she is!” Sam pointed at you, standing up at his desk.

“Where did you run off to?” Wanda asked, her eyes frantic. “We’ve been looking everywhere!”

Damn, rumors spread fast here. You turned to T’Challa. “Sir, I take it you got my memo?”

He nodded. “I also received the second note, but we can discuss that later. For now, I need to know where Barnes is.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“He didn’t show up for work today. He put in a request for a sick day and didn’t say another word about it. He’s not answering his work phone _or_ his personal number. If we truly have a shot with this meeting, I need him in here ASAP.”

“Maybe he _is_ sick.” You shrugged and moved through the small crowed to your desk, setting the laptop and box down. “If he called off, I’m sure he had a good reason. I’m not his keeper.”

“You both returned the rental car yesterday morning. He didn’t mention calling off to you then?”

“I didn’t come back with him,” you admitted, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “I caught a ride back to the city Saturday night.”

There was a low murmur among the group, and you immediately felt your face heat up. Now everyone was definitely going to be spreading gossip about this weekend. You were almost relieved that you were quitting, if only to avoid this office bullcrap.

“Can we discuss this in your office?” you asked your boss quietly.

T’Challa shook his head. “I have to get some people started on this pitch for Stark, I don’t have time to play babysitter. Your resignation is not accepted until you find Barnes.” He turned on his heel, and everyone but Wanda and Sam shuffled after him.

Wanda turned to you the second they were out of earshot. “You didn’t even ride back with him? What the hell happened on Saturday, Y/N?”

“This is bad,” you muttered, ignoring her as anxiety began to seep into your system. “What if something happened to him? It’s so unlike him-”

“Earth to Y/N!” Sam called out. “Start with his emergency contacts.”

“You’re right,” you breathed out, sitting down and opening your laptop. You found the number for the HR department, and explained over the phone that you’d been tasked by T’Challa to find an emergency contact for Bucky.

They gave you his parents’ number in Connecticut, and a number for Steve Rogers, his best friend, also in Connecticut.

You leaned back the second you hung up. “I don’t want to call his parents. I’ll try Steve.”

Wanda and Sam weren’t about to let you work to find Bucky in peace, so you let them listen in on your side of the conversation. You used your personal cell to call Steve.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Steve? Steve Rogers?”

“Yes. May I ask who is calling?”

This was so weird. You felt like you were digging too far into the realm of what was allowed for a coworker-slash-fake-girlfriend. “Steve, this is Y/N. I know we don’t know each other. I’m calling because-“

“Y/N! No way,” he spoke over your voice happily. “I was wondering when I would get to talk to you! Bucky went on and on about you the other night, and I kept trying to ask when he was going to bring you home to Connecticut, but he avoided the subject.”

“Steve, I need to know-“

“He adores you, by the way. I can hear it in his voice. The pictures you guys take are great, too. He talks about you like you set the stars in the sky. I know getting to know him probably wasn’t easy for you, but I’m so glad he has you. He’s been so hurt before, and-“

“STEVE!” You couldn’t handle his friendly rambling anymore. Time was of the essence here. “I need to know if you’ve heard from Bucky in the last two days!?”

“You mean you haven’t heard from him either?”

“He didn’t come to work today. No one can reach him.”

“Have you tried his mobile?”

“Our boss has,” you confirmed, pressing your lips together in a thin line.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Why haven’t you? Did you guys have a fight?”

“Something like that. Listen, I need to know if you have any other way to find him.”

“Have you tried his apartment?”

_No_ , no one had tried there. You smacked your hand against your forehead in frustration. “I don’t know where he lives,” you admitted sheepishly.

“W-what? How can you date someone and not know where he lives?”

“It’s a long story, Steve. I promise I’ll explain everything, but for now, can you please give me his address?”

“Okay, but I expect answers.”

You motioned for Sam to hand you paper and a pen, and when he did, you took down Bucky’s address as Steve recited it.

“Thank you Steve, I promise we’ll clear everything up. I just have to find him first!” You hit the big red end call button before he could say another word.

“Do you want us to come with you?” Wanda asked gently.

“No. I’ve got to find him on my own.” You gave her a sad smile. “If he really is just ditching work, I have a feeling that I’m part of the reason he didn’t want to come here today. I’ve got to make things right. Thank you both, though.”

“If you need us, we’re here,” Sam added.

With a sharp nod, you grabbed your bag and took off for the elevators, clutching Bucky’s address in your hand.

* * *

His apartment was empty, as far as you could tell. No one came to the door when you knocked, and no one was shuffling around inside. As you left the lobby, you stopped to ask the doorman if he saw Bucky leave earlier this morning. The doorman had seen him leave, but there had been no sign of Bucky since.

You trudged back out on to the street. It was a little bit windy today, but otherwise it was warm enough to go traipsing the city for that idiot coworker of yours, assuming he was even still here.

Facebook was the only other connection you had to him at the moment. He was still listed as your boyfriend, and you had access to see his recent activity. But, when you pulled up his page in your mobile app, there was nothing new. No check-ins, no pictures, no activity of any kind.

This was so unlike him to ditch work and disappear, so out-of-character that even his best friend couldn’t predict where he would go or understand why he was doing this. You were starting to get anxious with worry again, so you headed for the one place in the city where you could sit and think.

And let’s be real, you’d take any chance you could get to see your beloved Lincoln Center Fountain, even if for a moment.

Just as the corner of the fountain came into view, your breath hitched in your throat at the sight before you.

Your eyes locked on his figure almost immediately. He was so familiar to you now, you could pick him out in a crowd with ease.

Bucky Barnes was sitting at the edge of the fountain, leaning with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together. He was staring up at the Met.

You hesitated for just a moment, then started walking toward him.


	11. Chapter 11

Each slow step that you took toward Bucky made your heart ache that much more. What were you even going to say to him? Why had he run off, anyway? Was he here because he found it to be comforting, too, or was he here because he knew you’d find him?

You obviously had a ton of questions, but right now the best thing you could do for him was to simply be there. If he wanted to tell you, he’d tell you.

As soon as you got to him, you sat down beside him without a word.

Bucky must have realized it was you, because he didn’t flinch, didn’t even react. After a moment or two, he finally turned his head to look at you. 

The corner of his mouth lifted, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Leaving without me?”

Your heart sank. That was the question he would ask you at your desk every time you tried to bail on one of his adventures during these past two weeks. This time, though, the meaning was obviously a little deeper.

“I have to,” you murmured, looking away from him to your hands, now clasped in front of you. “It’s not about you, Bucky.”

He sat up and cleared his throat before nodding once. “I know.”

“You saw my emails then?”

Bucky nodded again, looking down at the pavement. “I bet legal could find a way around whatever Pepper is worried about, Y/N. You deserve the credit and the compensation for this bid.”

You sighed, wondering when he was going to let this go. “Don’t forget, the company hasn’t even gotten the account yet. Just a meeting, remember?”

“That’s all we ever need.”

“No,” you argued. “That’s all _you_ ever need. I, on the other hand, wouldn’t even know where to begin. I haven’t been helpful in my time with Wakanda, Inc., Bucky. I’ve been kind of miserable with the work, to be honest.”

When he didn’t say anything, you looked up and locked eyes with him again.

He rubbed the back of his neck, seeming almost uncomfortable now. “What do you think you’ll do instead?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. It turns out, I’m not really good with planning ahead.”

“No,” Bucky agreed, flashing that handsome grin. “You’re more of a go-with-the-flow kind of person these days.” There was a hint of fondness in his voice now, which woke up those damn butterflies again. You bit back a smile.

As much as you wanted to sit here at the fountain all day, especially with Bucky, you knew you had to face your boss. “You know T’Challa is looking for you, right? He’s this close to calling the police to file a missing person report.”

Bucky shook his head, looking up at the sky as he wrung his hands together. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Do you not want to go back either? Is that why you’re out here?”

“Oh, I want to go back.” His blue eyes were finally starting to brighten up a bit. “I just don’t want to go back, get the account from Stark, and then have to manage it knowing it was yours.”

“You have to stop with that, okay? You worked way harder than I did on this, Bucky. Trust me when I tell you that I won’t hold it against you. You’d do a better job with it than I ever would.”

“Tony Stark’s a people person, though. You’re much more suited to his personality, I think.”

You shrugged, leaning over to nudge him with your shoulder. “So be more of a people person when you have to be. I happen to know firsthand that you’re an _excellent_ actor.”

Bucky squinted at you, his mouth quirking up. “Except…”

“Except what?”

“What if I told you I _wasn’t_ acting the whole time?”

You made a face at him. _Yeah freaking right._ You could tell he was your friend now, sure…but more than that? “I- I wouldn’t believe you.”

Okay, so maybe it was your bad habit to outright scoff at the idea of someone liking you, but it was also self-preservation. It had been _so long_ since you had an actual romantic interest, that you found the idea absurd now. While you knew this city had millions of single people, you never actually considered yourself to be in the running anymore. No, you were off to the side with Mr. Fuzzypants, watching romance in movies and reading about it in your books, while it happened outside _every day_ for other people.  

So yeah…he’d need to be a _little_ more convincing than that. You didn’t want to dive headfirst into something just because _you_ felt it, and then find out later that it was one-sided. It had happened too many times.

“Y/N, you have to stop thinking of me as your fake boyfriend for a damn minute, okay?” Bucky was frowning at you now. “I can practically hear your thoughts from over here.”

“It’s kind of hard to think of it in any other way when we spent the last two weeks, oh, I don’t know, _faking_ _a relationship_ ,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest. “Plus you’ve never shown any interest in me before.”

Bucky ran a hand down his face in frustration, before turning his entire frame to face you. “What would it take to convince you that I’m serious? If you’re leaving the company it won’t be as weird anyways, right? What do you have to lose?”

For a few moments, the two of you sat together in quiet contemplation. Nearby, a saxophone player was starting his morning routine for spare change, and a bunch of students from Julliard were milling around. Sometimes the acting students would put on little skits for fun right there near the fountain, or the music students would bring their guitars. Maybe you would bring Bucky back here sometime for that.

Your thoughts drifted back to what Bucky said. He wasn’t wrong; now that you were leaving, and there was no potential of him becoming your supervisor, you could breathe a little easier over a date with him.

Clint had hurt you deeply, but it was more than just that. It’s not easy out there in the great big world for a single lady. How did people sell the idea of themselves?

The idea that struck you made you nearly giddy. This would be fun.

“Do a pitch,” you suggested, trying to look as serious as possible.

“A pitch?” He looked totally confused, and you couldn’t blame him. This was one of those go-with-the-flow moments again. But, if he wanted to be in your life, he’d better get used to them.

“Yeah, you know, like the pitch you should be working on right now? A pitch. You’re good at those, right?”

“What kind of pitch?” Bucky looked genuinely intrigued by your proposal. At least that was a start, and he wasn’t laughing in your face.

“A pitch to convince me that your feelings and interest are genuine.”

He blinked at you a few times, then burst out laughing. “You aren’t serious?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, silently taking back whatever credit you gave him a second ago for not laughing in your face. “What’s so funny about dating me?”

That reaction was a bit much, but after he tortured you with trying to _fix_ you for the reunion, you felt like you owed him a little bit of torment in return.  

Bucky’s grin fell almost immediately. “Nothing, nothing…isn’t a first date usually where I would make my pitch, though?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I wouldn’t know, you’ve never asked me on a first date.”

His eyes widened. “So, let me see if I am following you here…you want me to ask you on a first date, during which I have to _sell my feelings_ to you as one-hundred percent real, correct?”

“Gee, Bucky, you make it sound _so romantic_ already, like I’m forcing you to ask me out! I don’t know why I’m not _swooning_ -“

“All right, all right,” he muttered, shaking his head at you. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

You merely hummed at him. He had to step up and take initiative at this point. If he didn’t, you would probably leave him sitting there and never speak to him again out of sheer humiliation.

After all, it wasn’t every day that you decided to let someone in. This was a big deal for you, too, and a risky one. Your heart was already rooting for Bucky, even if your brain was holding you back.

“All right…how about this? Friday is the day of the pitch to Tony Stark. It’ll either be a really good day, or a really shitty one. Either way, I’d rather spend that evening with you.” Those ridiculously adorable laugh lines made another appearance around his eyes, before he finally said the words you wanted to hear. “Y/N, would you please go out with me this Friday night?”

It took you a couple seconds of merely staring at him to process what he had just said.

Once you recovered, though, you knew you were grinning like an idiot. “I would like that very much.”

The look Bucky gave you in return made you glad to be sitting down.

* * *

The two of you ended up taking a cab back to work, since it was faster and you both knew you were on T’Challa’s (temporary) shit list.

Bucky was like a different person since you’d agreed to a date. He kept sneaking looks at you and smiling, from the cab, to the elevators, all the way to T’Challa’s office, where you knew you had to part.

“I’m definitely not going in there just yet.”

“Will I see you later?”

You bit your lip, knowing that you wanted to bolt as soon as possible. “He technically hasn’t accepted my resignation just yet, so I guess there’s a slight chance.”

Bucky’s face lit up again, as if you had just told him he’d not only saved the company, but he was getting a million dollar bonus, too. “Well, if you’re already gone by the time I’m-”

“Just go in already!” you laughed, shoving him toward the boss’ door.

With one last lingering look at you, he opened the door and closed it quietly behind him.

You grinned to yourself again, knowing that those stupid butterflies were going to get their fill of flying on Friday night. The grin still hadn’t faded when you turned around and came face-to-face with Wanda.

Her hands were on her hips, and she was frowning at you.

“What?” you questioned casually, moving to walk past her and back to your desk. It was time to start collecting your things.

She trailed after you indignantly. “I _cannot_ believe you haven’t told me a _single_ thing that happened this weekend, then you _quit_ , then you show back up with Bucky Barnes, looking like a couple of teenagers who just got caught making out in your parents’ car!”

“There was no making out,” you reassured her. “Not _yet_ , anyways.”

“ _WHAT_?”

For the second time that day, everyone around stopped to stare at Wanda.

“You really need to learn to control yourself, Wanda, people are going to think you’re unruly.” You eyed her, wondering if you should just leave your stuff and come back after hours for it. Maybe that would be safer, all things considered. At least Sam wasn’t at his desk to hound you for more information. There was a little note on his laptop that simply said _in a meeting_.

“Y/N, _come on_! You know I live for this romantic stuff. Give me a little bit of the story at least! I was helping you this whole time, remember? I’ve been supportive, and-“

“Wanda, look. It’s still too soon for me to rehash what happened at the reunion. I promise, when the day comes where I don’t feel like crawling into a hole and disappearing at the sheer memory of it, I will tell you what happened.”

“Okay, fine. But what about what I just saw? Since when are you and Bucky a thing? A _real_ thing?”

“We aren’t yet,” you clarified, turning back to the empty box on your desk as you began to pile your things inside. “He asked me on a date.”

“And you said yes, right?”

“I said yes.”

“ _When_? When is your date?”

Another quick glance at Wanda startled you a little. Her eyes looked a little bit dreamy, a little bit crazed.  “We’re going out this Friday.”

“Oooh! Can I help you decide what to wear?”

“No.” You stopped to give her your full attention, resting your hands on the side of the box. “But you can listen to how it went afterwards, and offer me your solid advice as my friend. How does that sound?”

She nodded eagerly. “That I can absolutely do.”

“Good. Now please, will you let me pack in peace? I’d like to be ready to go the minute T’Challa accepts my resignation letter.”

* * *

You wiped your sweaty hands on your pants as you made your way to T’Challa’s office. His assistant had paged you about three minutes ago, and it had taken you that long to work up the nerve to go through with resigning. The thought of having to keep up the kind of intense ass-kissing the rest of your coworkers did on a daily basis was the final straw that made you stand up and start walking over.

T’Challa motioned for you to come in when you peered into his office, so you shut the door behind you and sat down.

He was sitting in his own leather chair, fingers pressed together in front of him, his expression serious. “Y/N.”

“Sir,” you replied quickly. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes. I want to make sure that this is really what you want?” He shifted to reach for and hold up a copy of your resignation letter. “Our recruiting department assures me that there will be no trouble filling your position quickly, so I won’t be able to assure you a place on my team if you should change your mind.”

“I understand, and it is what I want,” you confirmed in a strong voice. Almost immediately, you felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. “I have really learned a lot during my time here, sir, but I no longer feel that this is the career I want for myself.”

T’Challa nodded slowly, leaning back. “And Bucky Barnes did not ruin your opinion of working here, did he? I know that this past weekend was your first time working with him on a project. He can be a little… _intense_ …according to some of the staff.”

The thought that other people were reporting back about Bucky made you a little furious. “No, absolutely not. I was given a lot of opportunities that most new employees don’t have the chance to experience. I learned a lot from everyone, especially from Bucky. He’s truly the best here, sir, and he’s going to land this deal for you. Tony Stark is extremely interested, from what I was told, and-“

“Yes, I am aware of your connections to Stark Industries, Y/N.”

_O-kay?_ What was he getting at, then? Your brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m not sure what the issue is, here, sir?”

“I simply do not like losing young talent so early in their careers. Not to mention, we have been considering Bucky for a supervisory role. I just wanted to be sure that he would be a fit leader. If you insist that this decision was of your own volition, and nothing from your weekend negatively influenced you, then I have no choice but to-“

“Bucky influenced me this weekend, sir, but not in a bad way,” you interjected.

Why the hell were you even saying this to T’Challa? He already knew Bucky was the best. Who, exactly, were you trying to convince here?  

“How so?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“He proved why he deserves to be where he is,” you explained, fidgeting in your seat a little. “He was calm and collected, he had the pitch down, and he was spontaneous when necessary. Bucky charmed everyone he met, and he’s an asset to your team. Not that I needed to tell you that, Sir, since the number speak for themselves, as does the feedback clients have given.”

“Well,” he replied, sitting up in his chair again with a hint of a smile. “I suppose I will simply say thank you for your time here, and accept your resignation. I am going to waive your two-week notice, but I will happily compensate you for the time anyway.”

“Thank you very much. It was a pleasure working here, even if only for a short while.” You reached up and shook his hand.

“The pleasure has been all mine. Do you have any idea of where you are headed next? I would be willing to offer a recommendation?”

Another idea hit you, and you figured that since you were on a roll with just saying whatever you felt, it was worth a shot. “Actually, there is one place I had my eye on…”

T’Challa leaned forward, his interest piqued. “Go on.”


	12. Chapter 12

It was a total shame that you weren’t able to be paid for almost an entire week of doing nothing _all the time_.

The whole week had been really relaxing, once you got Monday and that little resignation detail out of the way. You decided to get your hair done, you took yourself shopping for interview outfits (just in case what you were working on didn’t pan out), and you generally just let yourself breathe a sigh of relief and enjoy life.

You’d heard from Bucky here and there via text message, and you’d met up with Wanda and Sam for lunch once, but other than that, you’d spent most of the rest of the week alone. According to Sam, Wakanda, Inc., was in overdrive mode, meaning every available resource was being used to support Bucky and the team he had assembled for the Stark account.

Now that you were no longer on that team, you were free to pursue a job prospect that you found to be incredibly exciting.

There was only one problem: _it didn’t exist yet_.

In all the time you’d spent trying to find a job that suited you, there were never really any that stood out. You knew most people had no choice but to settle, that most people didn’t even get to work in the field they wanted to. Most people didn’t get to love their jobs.

But you had rent to pay, and you had an insatiable desire to help people on this planet, and you weren’t about to settle. You’d been settling your whole life, watching from the wings as everyone else took what they wanted.

So, you decided to do the innovative thing, the newfound-confidence thing, the _Bucky Barnes_ thing, and propose an entirely _new_ position.

The timing was tricky, though. You didn’t want to distract the co-CEO of Stark Industries from her duties while Bucky was going through his most important presentation to date. 

So here you sat on this bright, sunny Friday morning, waiting for one Virginia _Pepper_ Potts to join you. You picked a coffee shop near your beloved fountain just to give you some level of comfort. You still felt bad that you hadn’t bothered to say goodbye to her at the reunion before you ran away like a child.

The cappuccino you had ordered for Pepper (that she had requested when you texted her about it) sat steaming across from you and your iced coffee. It didn’t matter what time of year it was, you loved the cold coffees the most, though sometimes you broke down and got a hot chocolate.

You were so lost in your thoughts about different kinds of coffees that you didn’t even notice her walk in.

Pepper flopped down across from you with a heaving sigh. “Thank you so much for the cappuccino,” she groaned. “I definitely needed a coffee break. Tony is on a rampage this morning.”

Well, that certainly didn’t bode well for the teams that had to pitch to get his business today. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, he’s groaning on and on about the _fruits of his generosity_ yielding…what had he called it exactly?” She tapped her chin thoughtfully, then used air quotes. “Meaningless garbage.”

Good, so it had nothing to do with his biomedical business efforts. “You mean the September Foundation, then, right?”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes, but a fond smile appeared on her face. “He’s impossible. The first round of grants went out last year at that MIT function, I don’t know if you remember it being in the news or anything?”

“I remember.”

“I didn’t go, of course, because not only were Tony and I fighting, but I had work of my own to do, namely figuring out how to _distribute_ the money properly. Unlike what Tony thinks, you can’t just say the magic words and have funds magically appear in that many accounts for project funding.”

“I imagine that it’s a lot of work,” you offered. This was getting you a little closer to what you wanted to talk about anyways, so you didn’t mind her complaining.

As the head of the September Foundation, Pepper was in charge of all philanthropic activity for Tony Stark. Since she was also co-CEO of Stark Industries, she was _constantly_ working. Maybe you could use that to your advantage.

“It’s so much work,” she agreed, taking a sip. “But it’s worth it. And maybe Tony is right, maybe one of these students really will change the world. Anyways, what did you want to meet with me about today? You know I can’t talk to you about the bids, right?”

“I don’t want to talk about the bids, though we _both_ know which company would be able to handle Tony’s image and his promotional responsibilities for the new medical technology.” You paused a second, before leaning forward just a little. “I don’t work there anymore, by the way. I resigned on Monday.”

Pepper’s eyes widened. “What? Why?”

“It’s just not the career I want.”

“So you want to talk about job opportunities at Stark Industries, then? I would be happy to find something for you-“

“Not exactly,” you interjected, suddenly feeling nervous. What if this didn’t work? What if they had no intention of going with what you wanted because they had no interest in it? Maybe they’d give you a job anyway, just to save you from dying of embarrassment.

“Well, how can I help you? I’m sort of pressed for time, Y/N.”

“I want to work for the September Foundation.”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly. “Really? You’re interested in innovations in science?”

“Well, not really, you know tech isn’t really my thing. I had a slightly _different_ proposal for you, and I wanted to see if you and Tony would be interested in maybe expanding your charitable outreach.”

“I’m listening.” Pepper leaned back in her seat, her full attention on you.

“I read the transcript of Tony’s speech to the students at MIT. He told them the challenges they are facing are the ‘ _greatest mankind has ever known,’_ and referred to them as ‘ _the others_.’ But innovations in science and medicine aren’t the only ones being hurt by the current economy and government.”

“Oh, I know it,” she agreed. “You should see the number of charities asking for donations these days.”

“Right. So my thoughts were, why are innovations in the arts worth less than innovations in science? One of Tony Stark’s last memories of his mom was her singing at a piano. He even named the September Foundation after an old song she used to sing. The arts have been positively influencing mankind for thousands of years, but in times like these, programs are cut, and students aren’t given a chance to experience the arts the way they should. It doesn’t even have to be limited to the obvious choices like music, painting, acting…it could be architecture, it could be drafting in a new, creative way. But we have to be able and willing to reach out to students early enough to pique their interest, to get the creativity flowing. That’s when you’ll find the next Beethoven, the next Frank Lloyd Wright, or the next da Vinci. And who knows, maybe they will be able to help design the next biomedical instrument for Stark Industries that saves someone’s life?”

By this point, Pepper was staring at you with unblinking eyes, so you weren’t really sure what her reaction was. You tried to keep your breathing steady, but that wasn’t exactly easy right now.

“What I’m proposing is that you let me lead a branch of the September Foundation for the arts that will help students of all ages, especially inner city or rural schools where the funding is lacking. If you want, we could even help kids with college tuition, or save pieces of it for funding their art shows or performances. Either way, I want to help kids find their creativity again.”

“I love it,” she murmured, a smile forming on her face. “It’s brilliant, Y/N. You’re right, you’re _so right_ about it. The innovators of tomorrow could very well be designers, musicians, architects, or hell, even the next Meryl Streep. The arts have a hand in saving humanity, too.”

“So you’ll at least think about it?”

“Think about it?” Pepper chuckled, reaching into her bag and pulling out her phone. “Give me five minutes.” She stood up with her phone to her ear and walked outside.

You turned in your chair to look out the window as she stood chatting, one arm wrapped around her midsection. She was still smiling, and before she could catch you staring, you turned back around to take a long sip of coffee.

It didn’t even take five minutes for her to come back.

She was still smiling. “Tony loves the idea, Y/N! By the way, I’m pretty sure you just fixed his mood.”

“Really?” Your jaw about fell to the table. “Why’s that?”

“Because you brought up his mom at the piano. He said he couldn’t imagine his mom without music, and the thought of the creative arts dying made him sick. So, there you go. You’re in.”

“Really?” you asked again, unable to help yourself. There was _no way_ it was this easy.

“Well, knowing the right people certainly helps, but Tony has been itching to expand the foundation’s reach. The timing here was perfect. Can you come by my office on Monday to iron out some of the details, and talk about the kind of team you will need?”

What the hell? Now you get a _team?_ This was too good to be true. This was more than you’d hoped for.

So naturally, tears filled your eyes.

Pepper looked alarmed. “What’s wrong, did I say something?”

“No, I just…I hoped, but in the back of my mind, never expected this to go as well as it has,” you explained with a tearful laugh. “I know it’s ridiculous, but…”

“No.” She shook her head. “It’s not ridiculous at all. It’s about time things started going your way, wouldn’t you say?”

* * *

You weren’t exactly sure what time Bucky’s presentation to Tony Stark was supposed to be, but you figured it was going to be before lunchtime, since he was up first. So, you decided to kill time until you got a text from someone, _anyone_ , that it was over.

The public library was a great place to do that. It felt a bit like doing homework, but you knew you needed to read up on a few things before venturing into a new career. You cozied up with some books about non-profits, grants (and the legalese), and even a book about Tony himself, just so you could try to understand him a little better. The best way, of course, would be to meet him yourself, but you couldn’t do that until you officially had the job come Monday morning.

Now that you thought about it, you hoped he didn’t change his mind by Monday. Everything you’d read so far said that Tony was a very active, sometimes impulsive man.

Around one in the afternoon, your thoughts drifted back to Bucky. You still hadn’t heard from anyone about how the meeting went, so you texted Wanda, and then Sam, to see if they’d heard anything.

Wanda was the only one to text you back. _I saw them come back into the office, but I haven’t really gotten any news about it yet._

You chewed your lower lip thoughtfully before replying. _Who went for the presentation?_

_Sam and Bucky, and a couple of accountants._

_Why would Sam go with him?_

_I’m honestly not sure. They immediately went into T’Challa’s office._

Well, shit. That means it either went really well, or really badly. _Can you please find out? I’m dying here!_

_Yeah, sure, I’ll see what I can dig up. I’ll text you if I figure anything out. Hey, what’s your favorite song? Just curious?_

Your brows furrowed in confusion. What the hell could she possibly want to know that for? _  
_

_Why? And do you mean of all time, or current?_

_All-time fave._

_Make You Feel My Love by Bob Dylan. Actually, Adele has a great cover, too. Again, why?_

_I’m looking for new music._

Likely story. Whatever she was up to couldn’t be good. Maybe you’d text Sam again to have him snoop on Wanda.

You set your phone down on your leg with a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Everything was starting to stress you out. If Bucky didn’t get the account, what would you even do? You had a job lined up at Stark’s foundation (hopefully); would Bucky even want to date you if you were constantly reminding him of something that he missed out on?

Then again, what were the odds of him _not_ getting the account? Bucky was the best in the business from what you’d seen and the reputation he’d gained over the years. _No freaking way_ did he lose the account to someone else, especially not with so much on the line.

Your mind drifted back to the very first meeting T’Challa held about the Stark bid. You’d been so focused on what Wanda was up to, knowing she was trying to conspire behind your back to get you with Bucky, that you’d totally forgotten what Bucky had said during the meeting.

The first thing he had suggested was to highlight Tony Stark’s philanthropic work. A little wave of excitement went through you when you realized you might get to help the team after all, only in a different capacity. Maybe you and Bucky would be able to work side-by-side without-

_Wait_ …

Pepper had mentioned that she didn’t want any pre-existing relationships to cause issues between the two companies. That was why you couldn’t be on the pitch in the first place; you knew her personally and she considered that to be an unfair advantage.

Would she take issue with you dating Bucky even if the account is for Stark Industries, and not the September Foundation?

As you packed up your stuff and left the library, you wondered if you were making things better for yourself, or once again making them worse.

* * *

There was still no reply from Bucky when evening rolled around. You started getting ready for your date (under the assumption that you were still _having_ a date), and the entire time it felt like your stomach was doing somersaults.

You looked damn good, and you were feeling a little better, too. No news had to be better than bad news, right?

When your phone finally started ringing, you raced over to your phone that was charging on the nightstand and answered, trying not to sound breathless. “Hello?”

“Hey there.”

You bit back a smile. “’Bout time you called me, I was starting to wonder if I should find a new date tonight?”

“Not a chance in hell. I’m standing outside your apartment door if you’re ready to go?”

“Shit, sorry! I didn’t hear you knock?”

“That’s because I didn’t knock.”

“Oh. Okay, well, I’m going to hang up and open the door now.” You ended the call and wandered out into the hallway to the door. When you swung it open, you couldn’t stop the surprised gasp. “Bucky, oh my god!”

No wonder he didn’t knock. Bucky had his phone in one hand, and a huge bouquet of lilies in the other. “For you,” he said, holding them out. “I wasn’t sure what kind of flower you liked, or if you even liked them at all, but I wasn’t going to risk showing up empty-handed. You look amazing, by the way.”

You grinned at him, feeling your face heat up a little. “You aren’t so bad yourself, Barnes.” Bucky was dressed in a nice suit, his hair slicked back just a little. He looked so incredible.

This was really happening. You were officially on a date with Bucky Barnes. Who would have freaking guessed this would happen?

That damn _Wanda_ , that’s who.

“They’re beautiful,” you murmured, leaning in to smell a lily. “Thank you. Come inside while I put these in water.” You turned to head back to the kitchen cupboard where you kept your only glass vase. You weren’t much for buying yourself flowers, so you didn’t get much use out of it. It was kind of exciting to use it now, though.

You busied yourself with the water and flower food, while Bucky shut the door and wandered into your apartment. Mr. Fuzzypants immediately started rubbing against his leg.

That was one smart cat.

“So,” you began, unable to meet his eyes. “How’d the pitch go?”

“It went okay,” he replied casually, reaching down to pet Mr. Fuzzypants. 

His flat tone made you look up. “Just okay?”

“We won’t really know who Tony picked until Monday,” Bucky explained, straightening and moving closer to rest his hands on the counter. “I’m not really worried about it. I think we got it.”

“That’s great, though!”

“Yeah.” He nodded, watching as you arranged the lilies so that they each had more room. “I took Sam with me today.”

“To show him the ropes?”

“Um…something like that.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s not talk about work anymore just yet, I just want to focus on us, okay? I have to make myself a viable contender, after all.”

You laughed, grabbing your cardigan and purse from the couch. “That’s right. I expect to be wooed properly.”

“Oh don’t worry. I don’t mean to brag, but, you’re definitely gonna be wooed.” His blue eyes sparkled as the two of you made your way to the elevators. “I’m the best, remember?”

He was so utterly charming, and you hadn’t even left the building yet. All you could do was shake your head at him.

You were so done for.

* * *

After dinner, which was lovely and probably cost Bucky more than you cared to think about, he asked if you’d like to take a walk with him.

The two of you made your way via cab to Central Park, which made you grateful for the last-minute decision to wear flats. “You’re not taking me to the zoo, are you?”

“No. You’ll see.”

You walked around to the Bethesda Terrace, and the second the fountain came into view, you grinned. “Are you just going to go around the city finding new fountains for me?”

“No, actually.” Bucky reached for your hand and tugged gently. “Central Park is _my_ comfort zone. This is where I come to think. Sometimes it’s here at this fountain, sometimes it’s in the Conservatory Garden. Sometimes I just walk around until I’m tired.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to show you my spot in the city, since you were nice enough to let me in on yours.”

The fountain water you’d been staring at got a little blurry, and you tried to blink the tears back before he could notice. “That’s very nice of you.”

Bucky gave your hand a little squeeze, but didn’t say anything.

You stood there, hand-in-hand, silently observing your surroundings for a moment, and it was easy to see why he liked it here. “I used to avoid this place,” you admitted. “I thought it would have more tourists than mine, but it’s about the same.”

“Yep.” He paused for another look around, then smiled at you. “Ready to move on?”

“Sure.”

“How am I doing so far?”

You let out a little chuckle. “I’d say you’re doing very well.”

“A good rating on the introduction always helps me land the deal.”

You raised an eyebrow at him as the two of you turned to walk down the path, still holding hands. “I’m just a deal, now?”

“You’re a _major_ deal,” Bucky joked. “A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

* * *

“Close your eyes.”

“Come on, Bucky, I can see we’re near the opera house, I know you’re taking me to _my_ fountain now.”

“Ah, but if you don’t _close your eyes_ , I can’t really make this presentation as _effective_ as I want it to be. I need you to close them.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes before you closed your eyes. “Fine.”

“No peeking!”

“How am I supposed to see where to walk?”

“I’ll guide you.” His arm slipped around your waist, hand resting on your hip as the two of you moved forward slowly. You shivered at the contact.

“Almost there.”

You already knew where he was taking you, but now you were a little worried about what awaited you. “There’s no flash mob, right?”

“Right.” Bucky tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle his laughter. “I don’t think I could handle that, either.”

“Is there-“

“Stop trying to guess,” he interrupted, still laughing at you. “I don’t want this to be ruined.”

The closer you got to the sounds of rushing fountain water, the more nervous you became. There was a low mumble, as if a small group had gathered. “Please tell me we don’t have an audience.”

“There’s a couple of people being nosy,” he murmured in your ear. “A small crowd. I’m sorry about that.”

“Nothing you can do, it’s a public square,” you said with a shrug. “Can I open my eyes now?”

“Uh. Hang on.” His arm disappeared from your waist, and you were left feeling a little chilly, but you kept your eyes closed as promised.

“Can I open them _now_?” you called out, tugging at the sleeves of your sweater impatiently.

“Okay, open them!” He sounded further away.

Your eyes opened, then widened in awe.

Bucky stood a few feet away, his hand outstretched toward you. Behind him were a quartet of violinists, instruments at the ready, their music stands covered in fairy lights (with tiny little battery packs! You didn’t even know that was a _thing_ until now).

“Y/N, since we didn’t get to have a proper dance before, would you please dance with me?”

“In front of all these people?” Your eyes were still wide, legs a little shaky at the idea of being the center of attention. “You hired _musicians_?”

“They’re students, part of the music program at Julliard. I remember you mentioning that you liked to listen to them play sometimes.”

He was far more observant than you had ever given him credit for.

Bucky gestured to you again, his hand still outstretched. You couldn’t leave him hanging, not after all this.

You moved forward until you were in front of him and placed your right hand in his left. He grasped it gently, wrapping his right arm around your waist to draw you closer. Everything felt incredibly intimate.  

The two of you fit together perfectly, you noted, letting your free arm wrap around his shoulder.

Bucky let out a shuddered breath, then gave you a small smile as the musicians began to play.

When you heard the first few notes of your favorite song, you knew Wanda was in on this the whole time. You grinned at Bucky. “ _Gee_ , I wonder how you knew to have them play this song?”

“You aren’t the only one with insider information,” he admitted with a wink. “And the lyrics are fitting, don’t you think?”

He led you slowly around a small area beside the fountain you loved so much. You were mesmerized, unable to peel your gaze away from his, until he leaned over after about a minute to whisper lyrics in your ear. _“I know you haven’t made your mind up yet, but I would never do you wrong. I’ve known it from the moment that we met; no doubt in my mind where you belong.”_

The crowd no longer mattered; the only thing you could focus on, the only thing you _wanted_ to focus on, was Bucky.

Before he could pull away again, you turned your head and captured his lips with yours.

It was totally out-of-character, completely spontaneous, and _exactly_ what you wanted. The small crowd around you started cheering, and you felt Bucky grin against your lips.

“I guess my little pitch worked, then?” he breathed out, pulling away only slightly.

The corner of your mouth lifted. “Guess so.”

As the song came to an end, Bucky dropped your hand from his and reached up to cup your face gently. His eyes were stunning, more emotional than you’d ever seen them before.

And the second kiss was _even better_.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me, and for reading, and for all your sweet messages. <3

You watched from the sidelines as a crowd of reporters and photographers surrounded Tony Stark. Microphones and cameras were practically shoved in his face, but he took it all in stride. In fact, he almost seemed comfortable with it.

“Be cool,” Tony commanded, hands raised jokingly. His signature glasses were on his face, hair spiked up high. “I am not taking personal questions tonight. The stunning and magnificent Pepper Potts will be taking questions, but _only_ if they are about the September Foundation, and its tireless efforts to help a newer generation of innovators change the world. Make sure you try the crab cakes, and don’t forget to donate generously. Thank you.”

The first ever September Foundation Gala was being held at the Metropolitan Opera (per your suggestion, of course), in honor of the success of your Creative Arts branch. The Grand Tier restaurant was exclusively filled with donors tonight, both private and corporate, as the foundation attempted to bring in record amounts of money to provide even more grants next year.  
  
The sheer amount of work that went into this fundraiser completely blew your mind. It was your first time as co-chair of any such thing. You had to admit that while you were exhausted, you were learning a lot and absolutely loved every second of the effort.  
  
A little sigh escaped you as you wandered over to Tony and Pepper. They were doing better than ever as a couple. Tony had proposed last autumn, and you knew Pepper hoped for a late spring wedding. Plus, you were going to be a bridesmaid, which was really cool.  
  
Pepper turned to you and smiled. “I saw your friends from Wakanda, Inc. filled an entire table! That was incredibly generous of them.”  
  
“Yeah, well, they’re rolling in Stark money these days, right? I’d like to think I helped the company a little bit before I left. The least _they_ could do is donate to students in need.”  
  
She laughed. “Man, Bucky really did have the most incredible argument of all the presentations. He set the bar a little higher that day. You should have heard him, Y/N. I’ve never heard Tony actively try to woo someone who wasn’t me or Rhodey before that presentation. T'Challa really took a hit when Bucky resigned.”  
  
You nodded thoughtfully, but didn’t reply. Instead, you turned your attention to the beautiful beaded gown you were wearing. It was navy blue, sparkled like a thousand gems were on it, and was chosen specifically with Bucky in mind. You had hoped he’d see you in it tonight, but…  
  
Pepper’s smile fell. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a sore subject for you.”  
  
“It’s really not, though.” You waved a hand in the air. “Everyone got what they wanted in the end, right?”  
  
The day after your first date with Bucky, once Tony had made his decision, Pepper had called you to tell you everything that happened. Just as you suspected, Bucky had blown them all away with his plans, his enthusiasm, and especially his – and this was a direct quote from Pepper _\- insatiable desire to help people_.

Tony didn’t even want to see any of the other presentations after Bucky and his team had left the building. He was so convinced that Wakanda, Inc. could help him that he called T'Challa that same evening to begin the legal work.  
  
Bucky didn’t find out about any of that until _after_ his date with you. To his credit, he’d been totally in the moment, completely focused on the date. If it had been reversed, you weren’t how you would have gotten through it. Your poor nerves would have been shot.  
  
Even so, everything had gone so perfectly during the date, including an incredible goodnight kiss at your apartment door. As he turned to leave, Bucky checked his phone. He stopped in the middle of the hall, then turned back to you, calling your name one more time. With a big grin, he told you that they’d gotten the account.  
  
That, of course, had led to more kissing.  
  
By the time he finally left your place, it was around one in the morning.  
  
Pepper was the one who told you that Bucky had resigned from Wakanda, Inc. to go work for Tony. She let it slip during her call Saturday morning. You were stunned, until you heard more of the details.  
  
Bucky made good on his decision to not babysit an account. He informed everyone during his presentation that he had no intention on being the go-to person. Tony decided it was worth it to pursue a contract with T’Challa, if it meant he could get Bucky to come over to Stark Industries.  
  
Without even knowing about your job proposal to Pepper, Bucky had made it much easier to be together.  
  
_Or so you thought._  
  
Another sigh left your lips. You were feeling particularly alone right now, on the verge of throwing yourself a pity party in the middle of one of your biggest achievements.  
  
As you glanced around the room, your eyes caught something of interest. “Excuse me,” you told Pepper. “I’ll be back in a minute.”  
  
The closer you got to the table in question, the bigger your smile became. “Hey guys!”  
  
Natasha and Clint Barton smiled up at you from their seats at one of the donor tables.

“We didn’t want to miss your big moment!” Nat stood up and gave you a hug, with her husband following suit.  
  
“This is unreal,” Clint added. “Congratulations.”  
  
“Thank you.” It was so weird to have them at the gala, but you were glad to see them. “It means a lot to me that you’re here. And also, ya know, that you’re spending a ton of money on a good cause.”  
  
“It’s a _great_ cause,” Nat agreed. “I’m so proud of you!”  
  
“Y/N, I think someone behind you is trying to get your attention.” Clint nodded behind you.  
  
You turned around to see Steve and Sharon Rogers standing at the main entrance. Steve waved as soon as you made eye contact. You waved back, then held your finger up to let them know you’d be right there. “Ah, that’s Bucky’s best friend Steve with his wife Sharon.”  
  
“I still can’t believe you went from fake dating Bucky to _actually_ dating him. You had all of us fooled!”  
  
“I had myself fooled, too,“ you laughed, shaking your head at her. "I should go say hello, but don’t let me forget, I want to see pictures of the baby tonight! And you two had better not sneak out without saying goodbye, okay?”  
  
“You got it.” Clint wrapped his arm around his wife.

It was such a relief to see that happen and feel nothing. A year ago, you would have been so uncomfortable merely being around either of them. Whether they realized it or not, both Natasha and Clint had helped you grow so much as a person since the reunion. You’d renewed your friendship with them, and you had even helped with Nat’s baby shower before their beautiful daughter Olivia was born.  
  
With one last smile, you turned and headed over to Steve.  
  
This whole co-hosting-an-event thing sort of made you think about that old pong game, where you bounce back and forth over and over.  
  
“Y/N!” Steve enveloped you in a giant bear hug almost immediately. “How are you?”  
  
“Fine, how are you both doing?” Steve was easily one of the warmest, kindest people you’d ever met in your life.  
  
Bucky had finally taken you to Connecticut to meet everyone after about the third month of dating. Steve had hounded him weekly, but he’d been able to withstand it until Steve went and got Bucky’s mother involved.  
  
That’s when she finally guilted Bucky into bringing you home, and you were thrilled to find his parents to be just as charming as him.  
  
Steve kept his arm around your shoulder as he nodded to his wife. “I’ve never been better, personally.”  
  
Sharon rubbed her belly. “We’re great! Baby number two is on the way.”  
  
You grinned, completely elated for them. “That’s amazing news. You two are the world’s best parents.”  
  
“We were trying to find our table. I’m starving,” Sharon laughed.  
  
“Hmm.” You turned and pointed to Nat and Clint. “I put you with my friends from Long Island.”  
  
“Great. Come on sweetie, we’ll get you settled.”

* * *

“So he hasn’t shown up yet?”  
  
You glanced at Steve. “Nope. I haven’t heard from him, either.”

The two of you were standing by a window, sipping champagne and catching up.  
  
He nodded, rubbing his chin. “That’s not like him.”  
  
“Yeah, well, after he’s been gone so much, it’s _whatever_ at this point.”  
  
“You don’t mean that.” The blond man eyed you thoughtfully. “You even said the timing was going to be bad today.”

“No, I don’t mean it,” you agreed, eyes dropping to your glass of bubbly. “He’s been in Tokyo for two weeks straight, and he was supposed to get back this morning, but, who knows. There could have been a delay. It’s a really long flight.”  
  
“That could explain the radio silence.” Steve nudged your arm gently with his. “You aren’t mad at him, right?”  
  
“No, I’m not mad at him. I just wish he could take time off from work for me once in a while. I know I’ve been bad lately, trying to get everything finalized for this event. I just feel like I haven’t seen much of him for weeks, even before his trip.”  
  
Your apartment in Brooklyn was lonely without Bucky, even though Mr. Fuzzypants still liked to curl up with you.

It hadn’t been easy for either of you to commit to living together. You liked your small apartment, and Bucky liked his bachelor pad.  
  
But you’d gotten over your fears, and Bucky got over his (though it took a little longer), and the two of you dated for about a year before you agreed to take the plunge. You were used to less extravagant digs, and he was used to comfort, so you compromised on a flat in the Williamsburg neighborhood of Brooklyn. It needed renovations, and it wasn’t really something you would have ever bought on your own, but it felt like a good investment with Bucky. The two of you were investing in your future together.  
  
You weren’t sure it was ever going to happen, because it turns out, Bucky focused on his work instead of his love life for a very good reason. About a month into dating exclusively, he finally decided to tell you about his biggest heartbreak.

It was a just a normal evening, and the two of you had been sitting on your couch eating takeout. As you were passing around food containers, you casually mentioned that you already liked this new restaurant better than the last one you’d ordered from. The delivery person was nicer, the food smelled great, and the order was correct for once.  
  
Bucky had looked at you so seriously that you’d stopped talking mid-sentence.

* * *

 

>   
>  _“What’s wrong? Did you prefer the other restaurant?”_  
>    
> _“I think…I think I’m ready to tell you about how my last relationship ended.”_  
>    
> _Your eyes widened in surprise. “Uh oh. Are you telling me this now so that I don’t make the same mistakes? You didn’t break up over takeout, right?”_  
>    
> _“No,” he chuckled, making a face at you. “I know you saw her picture on my Facebook account, and I’ve hinted here and there, but I didn’t have the guts to tell you what happened.”_  
>    
> _“Okay, I’m all ears.” You turned to him, sitting cross-legged on the couch. If he was finally ready to let you in on his past, you weren’t about to turn him down._  
>    
> _Bucky stared at you for a second or two before glancing away. “Her name is Penny - Penelope – and I met her during my freshman year of college.”_  
>    
> _You weren’t sure if he wanted you react just yet, so you stayed silent and attentive._  
>    
> _“She was just a friend of a friend at first,” he continued. “We saw each other all the time, though, even had one class together. Then she started dating my roommate.”_  
>    
> _Uh oh. That couldn’t be a good sign. Was she a serial man-hopper?_  
>    
> _“I was still rooming with the same guy for the next two years of school. I dated here and there, but nothing too serious. I was kind of just going through the motions.”_  
>    
> _Bucky looked anywhere but your face. “For my senior year, I got an apartment by myself. I was sick of being roommates with a dude who had an attractive girlfriend. I was starting to have feelings for her, but she was off-limits. Plus, I knew I had to get the hell out of Connecticut. It was near the end of the first semester before I heard from her again. Penny decided she missed me, so she called me one night to let me know she’d broken up with my ex-roommate. Said she wanted to see if we could give it a go, because she couldn’t stop thinking about me.”_  
>    
> _Well, that wasn’t hard to believe. The second Bucky had come into your life, you realized you liked having him around. You weren’t sure what you would have done if he hadn’t been interested in dating._  
>    
> _“When I got the job at Wakanda, Inc., Penny decided she’d move to the city with me. We were only together maybe six months then, and I had a million warnings going off in my brain every single day about it, but I said okay anyways. You know how it is at that that age; you meet people, you’re expected to settle down. People start lives together. That’s what I kept telling myself, at least. I thought she was the one. I thought fate had thrown us together.”_  
>    
> _Your face fell, knowing exactly what meant. After all, hadn’t you assumed the very same future with Clint? There’s always a catch when someone important becomes someone who used to be important, though._  
>    
> _“When I started my job, I worked constantly to make sure I could move up the ladder quickly. It was worse for me then than for you when you started, because T’Challa wasn’t as established as an industry leader at that point. We were building everything from the ground up, and I really wanted to be a go-to guy there. Penny didn’t find a job right away, so she spent her time fixing up our apartment. I lived in Astoria for a while, by the way.”_  
>    
> _The thought of Bucky trying to get by in a run-down apartment made you smile._
> 
> _He glanced at you, an amused look on his face. “I figured you’d get a kick out of that.“_  
>    
> _"Hmm. So what happened?”_  
>    
> _“Penny ended up resenting me for spending so much time at work. I didn’t see it…I assumed everything was fine. I thought it was normal for entry-level people trying to make it in this city to be working all the time. Then one day, I landed an account that was so big, the check I would get from it would help us move somewhere better. I was so proud that day…it really put the company on the map. When I finally got my money, the first thing I did was head over to Tiffany’s on my lunch hour to buy an engagement ring.”_  
>    
> _That made your stomach a little sick. The idea of him being proposing to and marrying someone else was just freaking awful. Not that the two of you were anywhere near that level, but, you still reserved the right to hate her guts over it._
> 
> _“I went home to find Penny all packed up. She told me she was moving back to Connecticut. Her parents had a guest house she would live in until she got herself out of debt, which she claimed I put her in by forcing her to move with me.”_  
>    
> _Your eyes narrowed dangerously, but you kept your mouth shut. Yep, you definitely hated her. She was also an idiot; who the hell would want to abandon this man?_  
>    
> _“I made sure to keep my mouth shut about my big check. I mean, I couldn’t trust her at that point. If she didn’t want to stick around for the difficult times…” Bucky’s eyes slid down to the couch cushion as his hand reached out to pull on a piece of lint. “Anyways, I got a refund on the ring, at least. Plus, I got a taste of success and didn’t look back.”_  
>    
> _You reached your hand out to grasp his firmly. “I’m so sorry, Bucky. You didn’t deserve that. She should have talked to you, or maybe shouldn’t have offered to move with you if she had any concerns.”_  
>    
> _“But she did move with me. And then she left.” Bucky shrugged. “So I decided it was better for me to not get my hopes up. I focused on my job, and I became successful. I haven’t really dated seriously since she left.”_  
>    
> _“And you’re telling me this now because…you think there’s a chance if we continue to date, you’re going to work a lot, and I’m going to work a lot, and we won’t work out?”_  
>    
> _Bucky nodded silently, still not meeting your gaze._  
>    
> _You stared at his profile until your silence made him look up in question._  
>    
> _“Penny didn’t have a job,” you pointed out. “She felt like she wasn’t accomplishing her own goals here. It wasn’t just about you. I have a new job that I already love, and yeah, I’m going to be working a lot, but here’s the good news: we work for the same boss still. The only difference between now and when we first met is that we actually do work on different floors now.”_  
>    
> _Bucky smirked, undoubtedly thinking about the elevator incident. “That’s true.”_  
>    
> _“As long as you try, and I try, and we are honest with each other, that’s all we can do, Bucky. That’s all anyone can do in a relationship.”_  
>    
> _He nodded, looking a little less serious finally. “You’re right.”_
> 
> _You moved so that your feet were on the floor again, but your body was tucked close to his, and he put his arm around you._
> 
> _He placed a soft kiss on your temple. “Great pitch, by the way.”_

* * *

You looked at Steve with a sad smile. "I’m not giving up on Bucky. There’s still time for him to show. Besides, I checked Page Six, no news is good news.”  
  
“He’ll be here,” Steve assured you, his blue eyes alight as if he knew something you didn’t. “I know it.”

* * *

Pepper’s speech concluded with the announcement that the total raised so far that night completely exceeded the original estimates, and that everyone in attendance should be pleased to know how much they were helping to shape the future. After a polite smattering of applause, she encouraged everyone to visit the lobby, where designs and videos from both artists and scientists were on display. It had been your idea to showcase the grant recipients’ work, and you were _so proud_ of the progress they were making in their respective fields.

There was no doubt in your mind that someone from this program was going to change the world for the better.

There was a second idea you had insisted on; musicians from Julliard were playing classical music here tonight for extra credit. The sound of violins filled the air, and the memory of your first date with Bucky came to mind.  
  
A wave of uneasiness hit you. Maybe he changed his mind about you. What if he _met_ someone?  
  
No, Bucky wouldn’t do that to you. _No way._  
  
You needed air, so you made your way outside, heels clicking as you weaved through the throng of people. When you finally made it outside, you immediately headed straight for the fountain bench.  
  
"Y/N!”  
  
Relief flooded your body instantaneously at the sound of that voice. You whirled around to see Bucky jogging toward you, tuxedo and all.  
  
When he got close enough, you closed the distance and threw your arms around his neck.  
  
“Hey,” he murmured in your ear, returning your embrace, rubbing your back gently. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”  
  
“I’m just glad you’re here.” You didn’t want to seem clingy, but you were definitely hesitant to let him go.  
  
Bucky pulled back to look at you. “I don’t have my phone. I realized a little too late that I left it at the office. We got back about two hours ago, but I had some loose ends to deal with.”  
  
You figured his excuse was too simple to be anything but the truth. “It’s fine, Bucky, let’s just go inside. Steve and Sharon are here, and-”  
  
“I don’t want to go in just yet. I, uh…can we sit down for a second?”  
  
Your breath hitched. What if this was it? What if he was about to break your heart? “Sure.”

Bucky took your hand and led you over to the fountain bench, and you smoothed your skirt before taking a seat.

How shitty would it be if he dumped you at your _fountain_? You would never be able to look at it the same way again, that’s for sure.  
  
He stood in front of you, which you took as a bad sign. It seemed too confrontational. Why wouldn’t he just sit beside you if he wanted to talk? Guys like Bucky take the upper hand any way they can. He was going to break up with you because you work too much, and he works too much, and-  
  
"I can practically hear your thoughts from here, and you’re so wrong,” he informed you. A small smile appeared on his lips as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, seeming a little nervous himself.  
  
“Y-you cannot _possibly_ know what I’m thinking.” You pushed your palms flat on the bench to stop them from shaking.  
  
“Wrong again. I know you, sweetheart. You’re cringing, and your eyes are worried. I’m not breaking up with you, Y/N. I would have to be out of my damn mind.”  
  
“Then what is this? Why have you been so distant?” You hated the way those words sounded, but they needed to be said. After all, you had both promised to be honest with each other.  
  
“I’ve been plotting,” he admitted. “And it’s a big deal for me, so I’ve also been panicking a little. I didn’t tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise.”  
  
“You aren’t leaving Stark Industries are you?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“And you aren’t transferring?”  
  
“ _Definitely_ not.”  
  
You were out of guesses already. “Then what, Buck? I’m dying here.” Your eyes widened. “Oh my god, _you_ aren’t _dying_ are you?”  
  
Bucky gave you a look. “No, I am not. Not that I know of, anyways.”  
  
“You need to go to the doctor for a checkup then, because I can’t-”  
  
“Please, let me talk,” he interrupted.  
  
“Fine,” you muttered, gesturing toward him. “Go on.”  
  
Bucky nodded once, then took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours.

You felt the panic rush through you. It was that same impulsive feeling you’d had at the reunion, right before you nearly screwed up everything for your former boss.

Without thinking twice, you stood up and grabbed both his hands in yours. Your legs felt so _freaking_ shaky, but if he was going to end it, he’d have to end it after you had your say.  
  
Bucky’s blue eyes widened in surprise. “Y/N, I _promise_ , there’s _nothing_ -”  
  
“Marry me, Bucky. Let’s get married,” you blurted out.  
  
His mouth fell open, and that little bit of hesitation made you feel like you were about to be rejected all over again.  
  
But, you were _no longer_ someone who gave up easily. No, you were going to Bucky Barnes the shit out of this impromptu proposal, even if it meant that you lost in the end.  
  
“Will you _marry me_?” You asked this time, silently cursing yourself when your voice wavered a little. “I don’t know if I can get down on one knee in this dress, but…”  
  
Bucky’s blue eyes were watery now. “I was about to ask you that very thing.”  
  
You blinked in confusion. “What? Really? I mean, look at this skirt! It’s tight! I can’t possibly…well I could try, but I might rip-”  
  
“No,” he laughed, squeezing your hands gently. “I was about to ask you to marry me.”  
  
Oh.

_Oh._  
  
“Y-you mean you weren’t gonna break up with me?” Your heart was pounding so loud you would swear Steve could probably hear it from where he was inside the opera house.  
  
Bucky let go of your hands and reached into his jacket pocket, presenting a small box to you. He opened it to reveal a beautiful sapphire diamond ring. “It made me think of you the second I laid eyes on it. I think it might even match your beautiful gown.”  
  
_Holy shit_ , had you been completely wrong in the best way possible. You took a deep breath, trying to keep your tone even. “You never answered my question."  Your eyes flickered back up to his. "I asked first.”

It was _so hard_ to stop yourself from throwing yourself at him with a grin, but you _needed_ this. You needed to hear _him_ say it. You didn’t realize just how much you needed to hear the words until now.  
  
_You_ wanted to be the one to close the deal this time.  
  
“Yes, of course I’ll marry you.” Bucky beamed at you, before gesturing to the ring. “For the sake of the agreement, will you marry me?”  
  
“Yes, Bucky, I will absolutely marry you.” You couldn’t hide your grin any longer.

Bucky took the ring and slipped it onto your finger, and you immediately held your hand up to admire the sight.

“This is going to be an excellent merger,” Bucky informed you, his eyes bright. He took a few steps closer before wrapping his arms around you. “I’ve done all the research, and from where I stand, the future looks promising.”  
  
“I think so, too.” You returned his embrace, leaning forward just enough to seal the deal with a kiss.


End file.
